The Moving Finger Writes
by Lattelady
Summary: An epic tale of the Wildcards and Queen 6. Follows McQueen through detox, divorce, loss of the Angels, all that happened druing the Chig War and beyond. Romance, political intrigue and our favorite Marines at their best.
1. Ch: 1 The Lady and The Major

**Disclaimer**: _Space: Above And Beyond_ belongs to Morgan and Wong, and Hard Eight Productions, though I like to think that the characters that have lived on so vividly for all of us, have taken on a life of their own. My title is taken from _The Rubiayat Of Omar Khayyam_. The name of General Frank Savage and the 918th Air Wing Group is in horror of the WWII movie, _Twelve O'clock High_. Quotes from _Te-Tao Ching_ by Lao-Tzu, translated by Robert G. Henricks; quote from _Invictus_, by William Ernest Henley; quotes from _Much Ado About Nothing_ and _Romeo and Juliet_ by Wm Shakespeare; quotes from _The Book Of Five Rings_ by Miyamoto Musashi, translation by Thomas Cleary. The movie that is mentioned, but not named is _Love In The Afternoon_. The quote from the song _You Belong To Me_ is by Pee Wee King, Redd Steward, & Chilton Price; and the poems _Eldorado_ and _Dreams_ are by Edgar Allan Poe; all are used without permission, no copyright infringement is intended.

**Rating**: PG-13 mainly for violence

**Notes:** This was my first fic in any fandom. What is posted here is the beginning of the rewrite I've been meaning to do for years. I've changed the title of the first chapter. Without this story there would have been no stories that followed.

**The Moving Finger Writes**

By

_Lattelady_

_

* * *

  
_

**We thought we were alone.  
We believed the Universe was ours.  
Until one night in 2063, on an Earth Colony,  
sixteen light years away, they struck.**

**And we went to war!**

**My name is Colonel T.C. McQueen, Retired.  
I am an In-vitro, a race of artificially gestated humans.  
I commanded the Marine Corps squadron: The 58****th****,  
known as the Wildcards.  
We fought when called, in space, on land and at sea.**

**To have lost that war meant more than defeat.  
To have surrendered was to never go home.  
All of us had to rise to the call:  
Above and Beyond.**

**This is the story of how I learned what I was really  
fighting for and where home really is!**

**

* * *

  
**

**_Ch. 1 The Lady and The Major_**

_The moving finger writes; and, having writ,  
Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit  
Will lure it back to cancel half a Line  
Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it. __**  
**_

_Earth spring 2063 _

"Damn scientists," the man behind the large desk swore as he crumpled the report he had just read. He could hardly believe that those bleeding heart liberals had been able to raise enough sympathy for Tanks after the recent assassination of Secretary General Chartwell. Everything had been planned so carefully. In-vitros would take the heat for killing Chartwell, and he would introduce a bill to have them returned to indentured servitude permanently. Once the bill passed, he would move to become the power behind the new Secretary General. Now five doctors were raising a cry of rights for those damn nipple necks! Taking a deep breath, he let go of his anger as he decided what to do to regain the upper hand.

An hour and three phone calls later, he leaned back in his chair puffing on a cigar and sipping a brandy, smiling as he contemplated how surprised those five doctors were going to be the next morning. It was a shame really. They were all so bright. Too bad they had to die, but in the line of duty of course. After all, there was a war on.  


* * *

_October 20, 2063 Planet Kordis_:

"Sergeant Stark," Lt. Com. Jennifer Kirkwood, MD, whispered as she quietly crept to the mouth of the cave, where they had been hiding for the last 3-½ weeks. "I'm here to relieve you for the night, anything new to report?"

"No, ma'am." He shifted slightly to face the small blond doctor who had been keeping them all alive since their medical transport has crashed while attempting to evacuate the base hospital on Kordis. "I haven't seen anything move all watch. There's nothing but that damn wind."

"Let me check your leg before you turn in. Any sign of fever?" Jenny ran her hands over the splint that was keeping her Corpsman's femur and tibia immobile, "How's the pain?"

"No fever and the pain's manageable, Doc." Stark grunted as her gentle hands moved over the area of the breaks. "You save any pain killers you've got left for the General."

"Thanks," Jenny's gray eyes met Starks's as she quickly assessed him. "But John, if it gets too bad, let me know. I need you, so no heroics and that's an order."

"Don't worry, Ma'am, I'm no hero, but same goes for you, Lady-Doc," he warned. "You need to get some sleep. When do you want me back on guard?"

"I'll take it until I know that General Savage survived surgery. Then…well maybe, then I'll be able to relax enough to get some shuteye. I'll let you know."

"Doc," Stark pulled back on the weapon he was handing over. "You did the right thing."

"I just hope he still thinks so when he wakes up," she whispered. "Give me that and..ahh if you could check on the others one last time for me before you turn in, I'd appreciate it."

"Sure thing, ma'am," the Corpsman pulled himself to where the others were sleeping. Gritting his teeth he ignored the pain that shot from his broken leg. If the little Lady-Doc could hang tough, so could he. He suspected she knew just how much he was hurting. Nothing much got past her.

Jenny took position at the mouth of the cave. Lt. Davis, the pilot of their downed craft, had told her they had the perfect defendable position: a cave cut into a cliff wall to their back and a steep rocky path 200 feet above the crash site, the only way up. Unfortunately, their cave didn't provide defense against malnutrition, fear, and a multitude of injuries they had sustained. It was times like these that she wondered if she was doing any of them a favor by keeping them alive.

'_What was it He always used to say?'_ she wondered. _'Oh I remember now, 'concentrate on the objective.'_

"But what is the objective?" she whispered, as she looked up to the night sky.

'_The objective is to live, Jen, to live,'_ deep soft-spoken words rumbled through her mind. _'Break it into boxes, prioritize, and then eliminating them one at a time. Remember you always used to call it the 'hop-scotch' method of war games. But this time it's the real thing, so watch your six__.'_

"That's easy for you to say, you're already dead," she half smiled as she whispered to the sky.

"Oh Jesus, Jesus..." She gasped, clasping her hand over her mouth. _'__Get a grip__, __Jen,'_ she shivered. His voice had been so real it was as if he was standing behind her. _'__Get a grip; I'm sitting here carrying on a conversation with a dead man. No, no, it's only because I can see the sky tonight and the firefight that's going on up__there, and the wind...The God-awful wind.'_ Jenny's mind rocked and she blinked quickly to separate fact from fantasy. _'__I am not going crazy! This planet is real, these men are real,_ _and this weapon in my hand is real. His voice is only wishful thinking. Yes, that's it, wishful thinking and the hellish wind.'_

The wind whistled and moaned across the rocks and around the outcropping that protected their cave. She shivered again at the sound. She was a woman who had once gloried in the wind, as she sailed her boat the _Windswept_ up and down the southern California coast. She could steal the slightest breeze from the sky, the sails would fill and off she would go, laughing into the wind. She wondered if she would ever be that free again.

The planet seemed determined to take everything from them, but she wasn't giving up without a fight. She was using all her strength to keep the men in her care alive until rescue came. The storms that started mid-afternoon and raged all night, every night, were slowly grinding away at their sanity. _'__Maybe not so slowly,'_ she admitted to herself. Hearing voices that weren't there wasn't exactly an example of a stable mind.

At first, picturing herself on her boat, with the wheel under her hands, cutting through the waves toward Catalina Island, had been a defense against the harsh realities of war. Lately, whenever, she called that picture to mind, she could almost feel strong masculine hands covering hers as he learned to feel the rhythm of the sea. Now his voice haunted her thoughts when she least expected it. _'__At least if I'm hearing from a dead man, he's giving me advice on how to keep us alive__,'_ she thought pragmatically. _'__But why hadn't he been able to save himself?'_ The question echoed through her head.

'_Don't go there, Jenny.'_ She had managed to keep from crying, even when she'd gotten the telegram from the Marines saying that his entire squad had been killed, but as each new day dawned and there was no rescue in sight, she was being driven closer to the edge. It would take too small a thing to make her lose control, and it was a luxury she couldn't afford. Looking down she realized she was gripping the small gold rope bracelet that hung from her dog tags. Making a conscious effort she freed her hand. _'__Don't think about it__. Don't think about him.'_

After quickly checking on General Savage, Jen curled back behind her rock. She was keeping him sedated, and so far so good. For the first time in weeks he wasn't spiking the high fevers that had kept him incoherent and thrashing for hours at a time. Tonight he was finally sleeping.

Early that morning, she had sat in exactly the same position as she was in now, contemplating what needed to be done

* * *

_Sunrise on Kordis earlier that morning__:_

The blood red sun had slowly risen over the horizon, giving off a dull light that reflected the odd particles hanging in the mist that surrounded Kordis. The morning electrical storms had already started rolling down from the sky and bouncing off the ground, making the surrounding area shake. _'__Charming planet,'__ she had thought. '__Either the wind__is trying to blow us off the surface or the lightening is trying to fry us to a crisp. Added to that, there is fog, rain, and the temperature never rises above 50 F__.'_ Why in the universe, either Earth or the Chigs, wanted this ball of rock, she couldn't imagine.

Jenny squared her shoulders for the task ahead. She had made up her mind what she had to do during the long night. All that was left was to discuss it with the man whose life it would change.

"General Savage," the doctor approached the commander of the 918th Air Force Wing. "We need to talk." She had been greatly relieved to see that his fever had broken in the early hours of the morning and that he was aware of his surroundings, though she knew if something wasn't done soon, his temperature would return and this time she doubted he'd have the strength to fight it off.

"I was wondering how much longer we could pretend." The older man lasered her with a fierce look, trying to hide his exhaustion and pain.

"Sir, that's gangrene in that arm and it's only going to spread. I have to amputate..." Fear tied Jenny's stomach in knots at what she was suggesting.

"What else, Lieutenant Commander?" Frank Savage watched the slight blond woman in front of him.

"I can't give you any guarantees except that you'll die if I don't do surgery." She forced herself to take slow easy breaths and not think about her lack of proper instruments. If she let herself dwell on the fact that she'd be taking off a man's arm with a K-bar and the saw from the survival kit, she was afraid she'd lose her nerve.

"Are you asking for my permission?" He watched her with hooded eyes. He hadn't liked her when she had been assigned as Chief Medical Officer of the airstrip on Kordis. Now he wished he had taken the time to find out if he could trust her.

"No Sir," Jen licked her lips. "In this situation, only God outranks me and since I get the feeling that he isn't bothering with this little corner of His universe that leaves me in command. More importantly, I'm a doctor. I have to try to save your life, no matter what, but I'd never do it without telling you."

General Frank Savage, 6' 3", 200 lbs., leader of men, and ace fighter pilot watched Lieutenant Commander Jennifer Kirkwood, 5' 1", 98 lbs., a major player in the In-vitro Rights Movement, and Navy doctor. For a moment, he did one of the things he did best. He took measure of another human being, something he hadn't bothered to do with this woman. He had let her politics and gender prejudices his judgment. He had nothing against female pilots or mechanics, but there was something about Kirkwood's demeanor that shouted civilian despite her military background and it had made him doubt.

"Well I'll be damned!" He smiled, "I've been wrong about you ever since you were first stationed on this rock. You have a strength that puts us all to shame." He looked deep into her serious gray eyes one last time, "And there is something more than strength of character." He nodded to himself. "I haven't figured out what it is, but given time I will." He reached for her hand and held it in his much larger one. "Do what needs to be done and give me that time."

"Yes sir," she began to turn, but he didn't let go of her hand.

"If I don't make it," his voice became stern as she tried to stop him. "Don't interrupt me Lieutenant Commander. My wings…see that they are given to Commodore Glen Ross of the Saratoga. Tell him to give them to my wife. My great-great-grandfather wore them in WWII. He'll know what to do with 'em."

Three hours later it was done. Jenny shook from lack of sleep and the after affects of adrenaline that had pounded through her system when she'd been afraid she'd be unable to stop the flow of blood from General Savage's shoulder. She thanked God that the last of her anesthesia had held out and that her corpsman, Sergeant John Stark had been well enough to assist.

The General hadn't died and she had managed to save his arm above the elbow. If she could prevent any further infection, he might live; if he would thank her for his life, remained to be seen.

"Sgt. Stark, keep an eye on our patients for a moment, I need to wash up," Jenny rose unsteadily to her feet and headed to the small stream that was at the back of the cave. Her knees buckled after she rounded a small cluster of rock.

"Lady-Doc, let me help you." Capt. James Parks came up behind her.

"I'm all right." They both knew she was lying, but since she was the strongest member of this strange squad, they both pretended otherwise. "You shouldn't be up and around, you have a concussion, Captain."

"Tell me about it, Doc. I still can't figure out if I really have blurry vision, or if it's just the pain in my head that sends everything out of focus." He handed her a wet cloth to bathe her face and a flask. "Drink this. You'll feel better."

"Thanks," she smiled then coughed as sharp whiskey burned its way to her stomach. "Can you break out the rations and help me get everyone fed?"

"Sure thing, Ma'am. You take a minute for yourself." He pocketed his flask and looked her over carefully one more time. He could tell she was exhausted but he didn't know what to else to do. "The Old Man was mighty bad off, Ma'am. You did the only thing you could. He was dying, didn't need a medical degree to know that."

"He may still die." Kirkwood forced herself to say it. She had to face the truth and so did the men who had served General Savage so faithfully.

"How long before we know if…well if?" He shrugged; wishing he had the courage to say the words Lady-Doc had just spoken.

"I'll have a better idea by morning, Captain," Jen sighed. "You go back and join the others, I'll be there shortly."

When Parks left, Jenny reached for her dog tags, feeling the imprint of the gold rope chain attached to them. It was the only thing she had left of the past. It was her strength and her talisman. _'__Please give me the strength to see this through__,'_ she thought as she held on to the past. _'__Help me to do this as you would have done it.'_

The meal was a subdued affair. Jen did a quick evening roll call in her head. General Savage was sleeping off the effects of surgery, but still alive. Captain James Parks was, concussed, but he was eating better tonight. Corpsman John Stark's leg was tightly splinted due to a fracture of the femur and tibia. Private Mike Patti was holding his own with a previous abdominal wound, in addition to injuries sustained during the crash. Lt. Jefferson Davis, pilot, had walked away from the crash with hardly a scratch, but five days ago had returned to camp from a supply raid, covered in blood, both his own and Chig. It had taken Jenny two hours to clean and suture the deep knife wounds.

"Lady-Doc, how about a story?" Stark asked and headed back to the guard post at the mouth of the cave. He knew he'd be able to hear her quiet words from that spot and the wind would keep any sounds from escaping.

"What did you have in mind, Sergeant?" She asked, knowing full well what he wanted to hear about.

"We want to hear about your kick-ass Marine pilot," Patti answered as they all nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, we want to hear about The Major," Stark's voice drifted from the front of the cave.

"Have I told you the one about the pirates off the Rings of Saturn?" Jen asked.

"Don't think ya have, Doc," Mike Patti spoke up and others nodded in agreement.

"Okay," Jen grinned at their enthusiasm. "It's a long one so I don't know if I can get through all of it tonight but I'll give it a try.

"The Major and his unit were on temporary assignment aboard a carrier. A group of pirates were making sneak attacks into the system and raiding mining colonies and shipping lanes. They'd use the Rings of Saturn for cover, losing themselves in the unstable atmospheric conditions created around that planet..." Her voice carried only as far as the cave walls, telling of brave Marines, hairy-furballs, and knife fights between hammerheads and pirates.

"Way to go Marines," Patti sighed as Jenny stopped the speaking. It appeared that the others had fallen asleep, but her words had kept Pvt. Patti entranced. "Semper Fi! Can you finish it? I want to know how they got the last hideout."

"Tomorrow," she whispered. "You need to get some sleep, Private. I need to check on the General, and then take over for Stark at the mouth of the cave."

"I can stand guard tonight, Lady-Doc," he offered, though they both knew he couldn't, but he would have tried if she'd asked him to.

"Thanks for the offer, Mike, but I'll won't be able to fall sleep until I know General Savage is out of the woods, so I might as well watch out for company." She smiled as she moved to pull the blanket over Patti's shoulder. Her hands froze, tightening on the Private's blanket, as she heard a voice in her head, _'__there will be plenty of time to rest when I'm dead__.'_

'_Get out of my head and get your damn rest__!_' Jen thought as she tried to focus on her next patient.

"Ma'am?"

"Hhhmmm, yes..sorry..." She shook her head to clear it and moved to check on the pilot.

"Ma'am is he real?" Davis mumbled.

"Who...?"

"The Major, is he real?" Lt. Davis' words were slurred. "Or did you make him up to keep us entertained?"

"I thought you were asleep, Davis," she avoided his question.

"The Major!" Davis was frantic. "Is he real?"

"Yes, he was." She bit her lip to keep memories at bay.

"Is he really a kick-ass Marine like you say?"

"Yes, Jeff, he was, but he died in that first major offensive, I think they're calling it The Battle of the Edge," Jenny's voice cracked. She took a deep breath and tried to find the words to continue. "His whole unit was wiped out by the Chigs." She closed her eyes as flashes of light lit up her lids and hammerheads exploded, while Angels fell from the sky.

"So many die, it would be so easy to just…stop...breathing..." Davis muttered as he was swamped with pain from knife wounds. His breathing became shallow and irregular.

"Noooo!" Jenny shouted, grabbing him by the shirt. "You will not die! Do you understand me? Look at me, Jeff!" She gripped his collar and had to fight the impulse to shake him to get his attention. "If you die now, if you give up, just remember that the Major will be waiting for you on the other side. He was a Marine of the Old Corps, who gave everything. Can you say the same? Can you meet him over there and not have him kick your ass back to Chig country? Can you?"

* * *

That had been hours ago. The day had been one of the roughest since they crashed. _'As__soon as I know one way or the other about the General, I'll have Stark relieve me. I need some sleep or I'll never keep the memories locked away where they belong__.'_

'_Yes, that was the answer__,'_ Jenny thought. _'I'm not going crazy. It's the lack of sleep and__thinking about the past too much, telling those stories to the men__.'_ She smiled to herself. The stories really did seem to help them. They loved hearing about Marine victories over AI's, pirates, and raiders. She thought He would like that. He was always such a private person, but if He knew that stories about Him kept other soldiers alive, maybe, He wouldn't mind too much. But it bothered her that he would be on her mind so much. They had been friends, close friends even. _'__Now all she had were memories, and the nagging feeling that something had passed her by and she hadn't recognized it.__'_

"Lady-Doc," someone whispered from the group of sleeping men.

"Yes?" Jenny moved from her position, surprised to find it was General Savage calling her. He never used the nickname the other men had given her.

"May I have some water?" He looked pale and weak, but he was coherent.

"Let me check you first, Sir." She turned on a small pocket light, being careful to keep her body between the cave entrance and the light.

* * *

_In Space, Orbiting Kordis 1900 hours__:_

For weeks the combined forces of Earth had been fighting a huge battle for that sector of space. The 58th climbed out of their cockpits battle weary and hungry.

"Okay people, I know it's been rough, and it's going to get rougher if we're to hold this corridor of space," Lt. Col. T.C. McQueen called out to the group of Marine Corps Aviator Calvary under his command. "Get some chow, and then hit the rack. Briefing is at 0600 tomorrow. Vansen, you're with me, now."

Shane groaned as she followed McQueen off the flight deck to a small office.

"You were Honcho today. How are they holding up?" the Colonel asked as he handed her a cup of hot coffee.

"Thank you, Sir," Lt. Vansen took the cup gratefully. "As well as can be expected under the circumstances. Everyone's reaction time is down a little, but we're keeping a close eye on each other to compensate."

"It shouldn't be too much longer, but it is imperative we secure this area."

"What can I tell the 58th?" Shane looked up to her commander needing something to take back to the rest of the squad.

"Tell them…tell them what they're doing is important and to get some sleep." McQueen turned away. "Dismissed Lieutenant."

"Yes, Sir," Shane watched her commander for a moment before she left, coffee in hand, and headed back to the Wildcards' quarter.

* * *

_Saratoga, Wildcards' Quarters 1930 hours:_

"I don't know how much more of this I can take." Hawkes bundled his damp towel and threw it across the room.

"We're all tired, Coop." Damphousse tried to defuse his temper.

"I've lost count of the missions we've flown in the last four weeks. All we do is fly and sleep, fly and sleep."

"We've been killing Chigs too," Paul grinned.

"When are we going to get some down time?" Cooper shouted.

"Just shut-up Hawkes!" Nathan exploded. He'd had all he could take of the bigger Marine.

"Give it a rest you two." Shane's coffee mug slammed onto the table beside the hatch she had just closed. "I've had all the complaining I want to hear for one night. Hawkes, we're Marines and that's why we do it. If they say fly and sleep, then we fly and sleep. Got that?" She had stepped between Hawkes and West before a fight broke out.

"Did you get that?" She had the much bigger man backed up against a bulkhead as she shoved a finger into his chest, her eyes blazing.

"Gees, Shane, you don't have to poke a hole in my chest." Coop grabbed her finger, his anger completely gone. Shane Vansen was his weak spot. He was thankful no one else realized it. "Yeah I get it."

"What did the Colonel have to say?" Damphousse asked.

"Just the usual. He wanted to know how we were holding up." Shane moved to her locker and began pulling off her dirty flight suit.

"Did he say how much longer this was going to last?" Nathan wondered.

"No, but he did say it's important we hold this sector, so I guess it's back out tomorrow. God, I don't know if I need food or sleep more." Shane sighed.

"You go shower. I'll bring you back a plate from the mess hall," 'Phousse offered as the rest of the 58th headed out for food.

* * *

_Commodore Ross' Quarters, 1945 hours_:

"Come," Commodore Ross called as someone knocked on his hatch. "Ty, what can I do for you?" Ross smiled to see one of his oldest friends.

"Sir," Col. T.C. McQueen stood at attention in front of Ross' desk. "The Colonel doesn't understand...."

"Cut the "sir" crap, and sit down and have a drink. You look like you could use one. I know I could, so stop pulling my chain." Glen Ross reached into the cabinet behind his desk pulling out scotch for McQueen and rum for himself. "If you have a question, ask it. I'll answer it if I can."

"How much of what is going on can you tell me?" Worry for his squad was evident on his face, though the Commodore was positive his friend didn't realize it.

Taking a slow sip of rum he leaned back in his chair and thought for a moment. McQueen was worried about his Marines in a way his friend never would have believed. What Ross couldn't figure out was why. Sure, the 58th were a good group of young people, but the Marines were full of people like that.

The Angry Angels hadn't been much different than the Wildcards, but, in social situations, Ty had shunned them as much as they had him. As a fighting unit, the Angels had acted as one. They took care of each other, but that had never extended beyond the cockpit. McQueen, the in-vitro, in a squad of natural-borns had been on his own. Figuring out what was going on with him could be an interesting diversion. Ross decided to file it away for future reference.

"Do you know General Frank Savage?"

"Only by reputation. They say he's a fine officer and an excellent pilot." McQueen's interest was piqued by the mention of the legendary Air Force general's name.

"What I'm about to tell you is to go no further." Glen sipped his rum as he decided how much he could say without putting them both in a compromising position.

"That goes without saying, Sir."

"Three months ago, Savage's 918th Wing Division built an air strip on Kordis. They were using the strip to launch recon flights into Chig held space. The planet has some strange weather conditions in the southern continent that helped mask their presence in the more hospitable north. Unfortunately, they were detected and heavy fighting took place. General Savage was injured before the evacuation of the airstrip. He was to go out with the rest of sickbay, accompanied by their doctor and a corpsman. Their ISSCV didn't make it off planet. We have been picking up their transponder for the last three plus weeks, but weather conditions prevent us from going after them."

"What kind of weather conditions?"

"They went down in a mountainous area of the southern continent. There are high winds and massive electrical storms that generate ion storms in the lower atmosphere. If we try to launch a rescue mission in that soup, we'll have another ISSCV stuck on that planet. Predictions have those storms clearing for a small window of time in about 72 hours."

"Are we sure anyone is still alive, and that it's not just a trap?" McQueen was calculating the odds and they didn't sound good.

"No, but we have to try. Frank Savage is one of my oldest friends, but, more than that, he is vital to the war effort for reasons I'm not at liberty to discuss. Besides, ten other people took off in that craft with him."

"Eleven lives for how many?" McQueen got up to stare at the distant light that was Kordis. "How many have we lost so far and how many more will we trade for eleven people, who are probably dead anyway?"

"The information Savage has will save lives. That's all I can say now. Get some sleep, and stop worrying about the 58th. You've done a good job training them. They will do what needs to be done."

"I do worry, don't I?" He gave a small half-smile, embarrassed that he had been caught with an emotion showing. "I can't help it, I care about those kids."

"I know you do." Ross met his friend's cool blue eyes with his warm brown ones. "The Wildcards are better Marines because of it."

"Caring is difficult. In-vitros don't learn how to care, so when it happens we get caught by surprise." The Colonel was looking deep into his scotch, trying to find answers to questions he wasn't sure he knew.

Ross allowed himself one more splash of rum after McQueen had left. Putting his feet up on his desk he contemplated his friend. Something had changed in the man he'd known for over ten years. The question was did the change happen because he cared about the 58th, or did McQueen care about the 58th because he had changed?

"You've had too much to drink, old man, when you start to think like that," Ross said to his guitar as he picked it up and began to strum. "Yea, right, Tyrus Cassius McQueen change, I don't think so? Well, maybe when there are ice cubes in hell." Ross hummed along as he plucked out "Georgia On My Mind." His eyes closed, letting the blues carry him away, off his ship to a warm starry night and a woman's warmer arms.  


* * *

_The Saratoga 60 hours later:_

"Listen up people," Lt. Col. McQueen addressed the three squads of Marines in the briefing room. "We've got a rescue and recovery mission today. The hospital evac carrier that went missing from Kordis was found on one of that planet's southern continents. It's been almost four weeks so it is anybody's guess what we'll find when we get down there.

"The 23rd and 67th will fly cover for the 5-8 to go on planet. The transponder fix is in your mission-briefing log. It's faint, but as of 0330, it was transmitting. There is heavy Chig and AI presence reported in all sectors of space so trust nothing. It is vital we find that craft and bring back any survivors. If no survivors are found, any personal gear belonging to those who were stranded is to be retrieved.

"Wildcards, we'll be going in just before dawn. The weather is as much our enemy as Chigs and AI's. We will be utilizing a break in the weather pattern to get on planet. But, there may be high winds and electrical storms on our way out, as the window closes, so we'll have to watch our six. It could be a rough ride, but there are as many as eleven wounded Air Force and Naval personnel on planet. Any questions, people?" His cool blue eyes raked the group of young fighter pilots, gauging their strengths and weaknesses.

"All right then, 23rd and 67th meet on the hanger deck in 20 mikes, to converge with our ISSCV behind Kordis' second moon at 0500." Raising his wrist to look at his watch, he called out the time, "0410, ready, ready, hack."

"Are you coming with us on this one, Colonel?" Lt. Shane Vansen asked. Though McQueen's flight status had been revoked due to an injury in the Battle of the Edge, he took every chance he could to go along on ground missions, but Commodore Ross didn't let him get away with it as often as he would have liked.

"Is there a problem with that, Lieutenant?" McQueen's eyes frosted as he stared the young woman down.

"No, SIR!" Shane shouted out, shoulders back, almost sitting at attention.

"Dismissed people." The Marines hit the deck running.

* * *

_Kordis:_

Jenny tossed in her sleep, trying to throw off the nightmare. It was so intense she could even smell the hammerhead fuel. She was watching the battle in slow motion, not from the deck of the _Windswept_, as she had watched it, but right there, standing in space. To her back were the planets that orbited the Sun. In front of her was the rest of the universe. Racing toward each other, just outside of the Sun's system, were strange alien ships and a greatly outnumbered United Earth Force.

The hammerheads with the stylized angel wings and halo stenciled on the cockpit were locked in furious battle with Chig aircraft. This time their superior flying skills weren't enough. One by one the Angry Angels were blown from the sky, until there was only one plane fighting. In her dream she could see him. In her dream he was dead and still flying, still fighting, and then his hammerhead exploded in a great flash of light. Jenny was left alone with the stars and the faint smell of hammerhead fuel as bodies drifted by.

"Lady-Doc, wake-up." Stark was shaking her shoulder trying to waken her. "You're having a nightmare again."

"What…no…not again...Ty?" Jenny gasped as she looked into the concerned blue eyes of her Corpsman.

"It's Stark, Ma'am." He fought to keep the panic out of his voice. Dr. Kirkwood was the glue that was keeping them together. If something happened to her they were done for.

"Yes…of course, John, I'm sorry, I...I…I was dreaming." She leaned her head on her hand as she sat up trying to remember where she was and what she was doing. "It was a bad one, sorry about that."

"We've all been having 'em. Anything you want to talk about?"

"I can't." She shook her head as she got to her feet. Looking at her watch she realized that she had had less than two hours of sleep.

Something was different. She could feel it, but didn't know what it was. "Listen..." Her first thoughts were for her patients, but a quick look assured her they were all doing better today.

"Ma'am?" Stark looked at her as if she might still be dreaming.

"Listen, it's quiet out. No wind or lightening." She headed for the mouth of the cave.

"Parks," she whispered. "When did the weather die down?"

All three of them knelt behind the rocks at the entrance to the cave. Light was just showing over the horizon, but nothing moved, no wind, no lightening, nothing.

"It's been like that for about an hour. After all the noise, it's kind of spooky." Parks shook his head. "Look at that, Ma'am!" He shouted as he pointed to four hammerheads coming in low and fast over their position.

"Thank God," Jenny whispered.

The radio they had stripped from the downed ISSCV crackled to life as the scream of the fighters circled around again. In the distance they could make out a larger craft coming in for a landing.

"918th Medical Unit, come in please." A young woman's voice filled the cave. "This is Lt. Damphousse, are you ready for extraction?"

"Lt. Damphousse," Jenny gripped the radio transmitter as her voice cracked. "This is Dr...er..Lt. Com. Kirkwood. I have three wounded patients and two that can walk out, if it isn't too far."

"Commander, any sign of enemy activity? Damphousse, over."

"No, Lieutenant, not in the last ten days. But they bombed this area, on and off, for two days after they found our ship. Your presence may bring them back if they're anywhere in the neighborhood."

"We'll be on planet in three mikes and will follow your transmission signal, Damphousse, out."

Jen quickly gave Davis and Savage injections of the last of her synthaphine. The strong painkiller was a synthesized version of morphine. It was twice as potent without any of the addictive properties. A quick checked on Patti assured her that he'd be able to make it without any further medication until they reached their destination.

"Damn, the Chigs are back," Parks called from the front of the cave.

"How many?" The doctor refused to panic when they were this close to rescue; instead she kept getting the injured men ready for transport.

"The hammerheads are engaging them in the sky. And our transport has landed," Stark cheered.

"Parks, Stark, here you go," Jenny passed out the last of the ammunition, and held her weapon at ready. "Lets give that evac team any cover we can."

* * *

McQueen checked the sighting on the aft gun as he barked orders to the 58th. "Vansen, you're Honcho, take them up that hill and get those wounded out, the weather is beginning to change and we have company coming. I'll keep the motor running, Damphousse you stay on the radio, just in case."

"Yes Sir," Shane Vansen called as she and her team hit the rocks running.

The ground shook from the battle that was going on a few hundred feet over their heads and lightening was starting to roll in. Three weary people, armed and ready to shoot, met the Wildcards at the mouth of the cave.

"Com. Kirkwood?" Shane called out.

"Here," a small, exhausted woman acknowledged. "But I prefer Doctor. You have no idea how glad we are to see you."

"Let's get you guys outta here, before Chiggymon pays us a visit." A tall shaggy-haired young Marine walked to the back of the cave.

"Capt. Parks if you can make it down on your own, I can help Sgt. Stark," Jenny stated rather than asked. "Can you people see to the General, Pvt. Patti and Lt. Davis?"

"We sure can Ma'am." Wang moved to Patti and lifted him over his shoulder, as Cooper was doing the same for the General, and West for Davis.

"Capt. Parks, you and I will provide cover," Shane called out, as they headed out of the cave, not more than thirty seconds after entering it.

It was a rough trip down the hill for all the wounded. Jenny and Stark were bringing up the rear. As each of her patients was loaded onto the ISSCV, Jenny gave a sigh of relief. She and Stark were ten feet from the craft when the ground shook behind her and the sky lit-up from a bolt of lightening. The big Marine jumped out of the craft and grabbed Stark.

McQueen was in the door, leaning down reaching out for the last of the evacuating personnel. "Hurry!" he called. "We've got to get out of here."

Jenny looked up at the sound of his voice. She froze as she saw the man who knelt in the door. His helmet was strapped securely beneath his chin accentuating his frown. He was wearing a black flight suit, and his arm was extended with his hand held out to her. _'__Oh_ _God, visual and auditory hallucinations'_ she blinked and tried to clear her vision of intense blue eyes. "Ty…It can't be…?"

A bomb hit the cliff where they had been hiding. Kirkwood felt a whoosh of hot air as the cliff exploded and the ground came up to meet her. The compression from the blast sent her into comforting blackness, where she didn't have to deal with facts that didn't make sense.

"Nooo," McQueen whispered as he jumped out of the craft and knelt over the fallen woman. "No, it can't be." Moving her hair aside, he saw a burn scar on the back of her neck, which still had the power to make him tremble with rage. As he turned her over to pick her up, her dog tags spilled out and his eyes caught the glint of a familiar gold chain hanging between the tags. "Oh, Jen, what are you doing out here?" he muttered as he carried her to safety.

* * *

She was flying. It felt wonderful to simply lie there and fly. But, oh God, her head hurt and she was so cold. She wanted to open her eyes but it seemed like too much trouble. Then she remembered the lightening and the bombs as they were leaving the planet. Had she seen Ty? Yes, that made sense, to see him and to be flying. He lived to fly…but…but..?

"Nooo..."she moaned as she fought to open her eyes and get back to reality. "I'm seeing things as well as hearing them," she whispered.

"Easy there Jen, you hit that hard head of yours." McQueen wiped blood off of her forehead with a damp cloth.

"Ohhhh," her eyes flew open as the cloth touched a deep cut in her forehead. She grabbed his wrist to pull his hand away from her face. Leaning her nose into his sleeve, she inhaled deeply the scents that were Tyrus Cassius McQueen: sandalwood aftershave, warm man, and a trace of hammerhead fuel. It had amazed her, when they had first met that she'd always been able to smell the slightest fragrance of hammerhead fuel when around him. She'd been his doctor in detox and had known he hadn't been around a fighter in weeks.

"Is it really you?" She looked at the blood-reddened cloth that he held. "I don't feel dead, but I'm cold enough to be." She shivered as her brain tried to make sense out of all that had happened.

"Oh God," she looked around frantically. "Did my men die too, or was it just me?"

"Wait a second, Jen. You're not making any sense." McQueen pulled off his field jacket and wrapped it around her. He was beginning to worry that she had taken a harder hit to her head than it appeared. "You're not dead and neither are your men."

"But you're here." Her eyes filled with tears for the first time in months and she hated that he would see her cry. "If I'm not dead, I must be crazy."

"Easy," his voice ground to a whisper as her hand moved over his cheek. "You're not crazy or dead."

"You feel alive! But, they said..." She fought the blackness that was exploding behind her eyes. "They said all the Angels died and I got...I got...a telegram..."

He gently wiped the blood from the unconscious woman's brow. She looked like hell. She'd lost weight she could ill afford to lose. She was confused and in pain, but what worried him most was the haunted look in her eyes.

"Colonel?" A slim dark lieutenant called from the bunk above. "Is Lady-Doc going to be all right?"

"I can't answer that for sure. My guess is that she will be, after some rest and care. She took a good thump to the head, though."

"She saved my life, she and the Major--"

"Major? Was there someone else down there with you guys?" Wang was horrified that they might have left someone behind. "We only saw the six of you."

"No, Sir," Sgt. Stark pulled himself to the edge of his bunk to look back at Wang and McQueen. "The Major wasn't there, not in the flesh. But his spirit was there, in the stories The Lady would tell us at night. And well, I think, somehow, he was the one who kept her going."

"A few nights ago, I almost gave up and died." Davis looked up groggily at McQueen.

"The Lady got real mad at me. She told me The Major would be waiting on the other side and if he found me wanting, he'd kick my ass back to Chig country." Davis grinned for the first time in weeks. "I was more afraid of what he'd do to me for running out on his Lady, than I was of any Chig. No way I was going to die and have to explain that to him.

"You can't fool me, Davis," Stark kidded his friend. "You just wanted to find out how The Major and his squad found that last pirate stronghold beyond Saturn."

McQueen had moved down the row of bunks to where General Savage was sleeping. He heard the men talking and realized that Jen had been telling stories of the Angry Angels to keep her men entertained. And he had a sick feeling he knew who The Major was. He was just thankful that she hadn't used any names.

* * *

_Saratoga landing bay, a few hours later:_

Stretchers arrived, people called out and soon all that was left was the echo of running feet. It had taken less than five minutes after landing, for medics to strip the transport of its six patients.

"Good work everybody. 5-8, you've got the next 24 off," Ross called from the deck of the landing bay.

"Yes Sir," the young Marines answered as they shut down the craft and gathered their gear.

"That order is for you too, McQueen," Ross said to his friend as they walked toward the elevator.

"But Sir..." he protested.

"No buts, take some time off, get drunk, play some poker, watch some of those movies only you think are funny. Bottom line, get some rest." The Commodore headed off toward Sickbay, leaving McQueen with the last thing he wanted right now: time to think.

He made it through a shower and a meal that he hardly tasted. He tried going to the Tun Tavern for poker, but wasn't interested in the hands he was dealt. The last straw came when a loud-mouthed doctor joined the game and began telling stories about the "Lady-Doc" who was sleeping in sickbay.

"When we got her cleaned up, she turned out to be a real looker. You guys know who she is, don't you? I wouldn't mind being marooned on a planet with her for a few weeks. Maybe teach her what a real man is like, if you know what I mean?" The doctor winked at Hawkes and Wang.

"Are you going to play or talk?" Coop growled, not understanding the last reference to Kirkwood, but not liking it on general principles.

"Any reason a man can't do both?" The Doctor grinned. He was new to the Saratoga and didn't realize that McQueen and Hawkes were in-vitros.

"Yeah, maybe there is," West muttered. 'The man was either stupid or looking for a fight.' Nathan wasn't sure which, but he was willing to accommodate him either way.

"Come on guys, she's just a skirt and one with an unsavory reputation to begin with. The kind of men she hangs out with, well, it leaves a bad taste in my mouth. LADY-Doc my ass," Voss laughed until he realized the only sound at the table was McQueen tossing his cards onto the pile of chips.

"Lieutenant," McQueen's voice was quiet and deadly. "Lt. Com. Kirkwood is your superior officer; as such you owe her respect. Have you served in a field hospital, as yet?"

At that moment Voss knew what it was like to look into the eyes of a Marine who gave no quarter. "A..a..a.. no Sir."

"Maybe, when you do, you will remember Dr. Kirkwood with a bit more honor, until such time, as an officer and a---gentleman?" McQueen's brow crooked over the last word his voice full of doubt. "You owe her an apology due her rank."

"But...?" Voss was shocked at the unexpected hostility from the table of Marines.

"Be very careful what you say next, Lieutenant. You are bordering on insubordination." The cool-eyed colonel fought to keep his anger from boiling over. The satisfaction he would gain from planting his fist in Voss' face wasn't worth the possibility that it would bring more attention to the woman sleeping in Sickbay.

"The Lieutenant wishes to apologize for everything he said regarding Dr. Kirkwood. He meant no disrespect to the Commander." Voss was looking straight ahead in his seat. He would have saluted if he were wearing a cover.

"By the way, Lieutenant, you owe two other apologies, before you LEAVE." West cut in, ignoring McQueen's frown. "The Colonel and Lt. Hawkes are in-vitros. They may choose to overlook the slur you have cast upon them, but we don't."

"You got that right!" Wang agreed. Squad pride was at stake here.

Voss visibly paled. He had heard about Jennifer Kirkwood and the In-vitro Rights Movement for a long time. He didn't realize how strong a bond that was, nor that natural-borns were backing it up to this extent, especially, after the assassination of Chartwell by an in-vitro. But what really made his blood run cold was the fact he'd just insulted a Marine Colonel.

"Colonel and Lieutenant, I meant no disrespect to either of you." Voss knew when to cut his losses. "Please accept my apology."

"Dismissed, Lieutenant." McQueen drank what was left of his beer and turned to West. "You should have left it alone. That sort of thing is just asking for trouble."

"No, Sir!" Nathan replied. "The Colonel may choose to ignore an insult to the Colonel and Lieutenant Hawkes, but this Lieutenant does not. Nor will the 58th, Sir."

"What? What did he say?'' Cooper was exasperated. He realized that somehow Voss had insulted in-vitros and Dr. Kirkwood at the same time and that he had missed it.

"Then the 58th had better grow up," McQueen spat back.

"What about Dr. Kirkwood, Sir?" West argued. "Think about the insult to her?"

"I was thinking about her, West." He stood, cold determination replacing his hot fury of moments earlier. "That's why I left it alone. I'm out of the game." He moved quickly through the swinging doors of the Tun, never looking back.

"What was that all about?" Shane watched her commanding officer's exit as she and Damphousse took the chairs vacated by McQueen and Voss. She had heard just enough at the end to be curious.

"Damned if I know." Cooper picked up the cards and began to shuffle them. "One of you guys better explain it to me!"

"I thought McQueen was going to take a swing at that guy." Wang shook his head. "It was a close call."

"Strangest thing I ever saw. Voss made an off color remark about Com. Kirkwood and the Colonel blew. Then when Voss insulted in-vitros, he just sat there. He never even demanded an apology." West was looking toward the door where McQueen had just exited, a speculative look in his eyes.

"You're talking about our McQueen?" 'Phousse was more interested in what the men were telling her than playing cards. "He's a stickler for protocol; I can't believe he wasn't insulted. He usually has those guys saying so many 'Colonel, Sirs,' their tongues are tied in a knot."

"Not this time. You know how he gets all tight and kind of frozen looking?" Wang shook his head remembering. "This time he looked as if he had a volcano ready to erupt under all that ice."

"I still don't understand what happened." Hawkes realized he had been insulted, but had missed it.

"If we're going to talk about this, let's take it somewhere private." West looked around, the Tun was getting busy.

The Wildcards moved as a group for the door, to head back to their quarters. None of them wanted to have that conversation in public in case Hawkes lost his temper. They knew that no matter how angry Cooper got, Shane would be able to keep him under control. And it was best done in private.

* * *

_Wildcards' Quarters__:_

"You guys know who Jennifer Kirkwood is?" Nathan asked as he reached into the envelope along his bunk that held his personal things.

"I know I've heard the name before, but I can't place it," Wang replied.

"I do, but didn't realize it until just now." 'Phousse smiled.

"She wrote this. '_The In-Vitro Chronicles_ by Jennifer Kirkwood, M.D.'," West read the title of the slim book as he handed it to Hawkes.

"Why would anybody want to write a whole book on in-vitros?" He was mystified, though strangely pleased.

"This book was a major contribution to the In-Vitro Rights Movement." 'Phousse smiled at Coop. "It lit a fire under people and politicians that helped change laws regarding treatment and care of in-vitros. Many people credit Dr. Kirkwood and her book as the driving force that did away with the last remnants of forced servitude."

"She did all that?" Hawkes was impressed. "But why was McQueen mad then?"

"Voss made a comment about Dr. Kirkwood's reputation." West was feeling out of his depth and turned to Shane for help.

"Hawkes," Shane spoke quietly as she sat on Coop's bunk beside him. She took care in choosing her words so she wouldn't insult or embarrass him. "Voss was implying that Dr. Kirkwood had had sex with in-vitros."

"So?"

"Remember when he said he wanted to show her what a real man was like?" Nathan lacked Vansen's patience, when dealing with Coop.

"Shit," the big in-vitro shouted. "We should have pounded him into the floor!" He wanted to get up and hit something, but Shane had a grip on his arm and wasn't letting him move.

"Cooper," Damphousse, moved to his other side. "There are always going to be ignorant people like that. We just have to learn to rise above it. I think that was what McQueen was trying to do."

"That's easy for you to say," Hawkes challenged the young black woman.

"One hundred years ago, blacks were fighting the fight that in-vitros are fighting today," Damphousse reminded him. "It takes brave people like this," she held up Kirkwood's book. "And brave people like you and the Colonel to make a difference

* * *

After McQueen left the Tun, he wandered the corridors of the Saratoga, unintentionally ending up outside sickbay.

"Commander," he walked up to the nurse at the duty station. "I led the SAR team that took the 918th medical group off planet, I was wondering how they're doing?"

"They're all doing much better, Colonel." Commander Joan Brill had been around for a long time and was not about to let any hotshot Marine invade the privacy of her patients.

"Is the Lieutenant Commander going to be all right?" Ty could push with the best of them when there was something he really wanted to know. "She was unconscious most of the way to the 'Toga, and when she did wake up, she was confused." He frowned unsure of what he hoped to gain by further questions.

Commander Brill made a quick decision. She had heard about McQueen for years, and had stitched him up on more than one occasion. The in-vitro was as tough as they came. The only times she had seen him in sickbay, when he wasn't bleeding all over her floor, were when one of the Wildcards was injured. She was intrigued that he would show up, no blood in sight, at 2100 hours, asking about an apparently random woman who he'd helped extract from a hot LZ earlier in the day.

"Dr. Kirkwood is in bay five, if you would like to check on her." She tried to look uninterested as she took her seat at the nurses' station, but he felt her eyes burning a hole in his back as he headed for the small room at the end of the hall.

There was just enough light over Jenny's bed for him to be able to see the sleeping woman. He couldn't make out the dark circles under her eyes or the bruise on her right cheek, but he knew they were still there. A white bandaged covering stitches on her left temple where she had been hit when the wall exploded behind her, was new and easily discernible. He walked slowly to her bed unable to take his eyes off of the woman who had saved his life and his soul three years earlier.

She moaned in her sleep and turned on her side, her hand reaching for a blanket that had slipped from her shoulders.

"Shhh, you're safe now," he whispered. As he reached for the blanket and pulled it close around her, his fingers brushed the back of her hair and neck. "What the hell are you doing out here?"

"No, look out," the sleeping woman whimpered fighting some unseen demon.

"Easy does it, Jen," McQueen whispered. "I won't let anybody hurt you," he promised as he pulled up a chair to guard her as she slept. He owed her that, for all the nights she had guarded his sleep when he had been too out of it from drugs to guard himself. He hated to think about that time in his life, but tonight, he would honor her and remember it all.

* * *

_The In-Vitro Health Facility L.A. California, three years earlier__:_

Maj. T.C. McQueen had made one of the biggest mistakes of his life. He'd let himself be seduced back to the world of phyllophetamines, or Green Meanies as they were called on the street. The first time he had gotten hooked on the drug that is so addictive for in-vitros, hadn't been his fault. Some unthinking or uncaring doctor had prescribed it for him as pain control while he was recovering from injuries received as a POW during the Artificial Intelligence War.

But, this time there was no one to blame but himself. The failure of his marriage followed by a painful divorce had sent him over the edge looking for an escape. Unfortunately, instead of going on a weekend drunk as he had planned, he had run into a guy selling Greens and the next few weeks of his life were spent in a total blur.

After going through detoxification and rehabilitation once before, he knew the nightmare that he faced the second time around. To admit he needed help had been one of the hardest things he had ever done. But he knew he had to get his life back together. The euphoria the Greens provided was followed by longer and longer periods of intense loneliness mixed with irrationality and streaks of violence. He had to lick it this time for good or he might as well put a bullet in his head.

The clinic had been hell until one night, as he fought unseen enemies in his sleep; a woman's voice penetrated his fogged brain. He could hear The Voice on the edge of his dreams. He knew if he concentrated hard enough, it would guide him to safety. There was something else cutting through the fog as he tossed on his bunk, something that went with The Voice. McQueen smelled a scent that he'd came to associate with it but he couldn't place it. It made him think of _flowers_?

Oh the third morning of detox, after being tortured all night by AI's only he could see, the only thing that kept him sane was The Voice and the scent of roses that was always present when he was being lead to safety by reassuring words. Soft voice and the scent of roses meant he wasn't a prisoner any longer that it was all happening in his head. Those were his last thoughts before he slept a deep dreamless sleep for the first time in weeks and his last for days to come.

* * *

"What do you think you're doing?" Lt. Jennifer Kirkwood's evening rounds had been delayed due to an emergency. She arrived at the lock-down ward to find the patient in room seven in four-point restraint and shouting in panic.

"Ma'am we're preventing the Major from hurting himself," the burly Sergeant responded as he looked in the glass and wire window of the padded room where McQueen was still struggling.

"Didn't you bother to read this man's chart, Corpsman? He fought in the Artificial Intelligence War and was a POW. You can't restrain him like that; it'll drive him out of his mind. Unlock the door," she ordered. "Between the restraints and the drugs, he thinks he's back being tortured by AI's."

The doctor in her was disgusted with Sgt. Gains for taking the easy way out and strapping her patient down. The woman in her was appalled! The corpsman knew the clinic rules: no restraints except in a life-threatening emergency. Jenny hoped that all the hours she had spent trying to gain her patient's trust, hadn't just gone down out the airlock due to Gain's laziness. In his frenzied condition, she doubted the Major would recognize her, so she might be back to square one.

"But Ma'am...." Sgt. Gains began to key in the door code, while trying to change her mind.

"I said unlock the door, Sergeant. What part of that order didn't you understand?" The top of Jenny's head didn't come as high as the Corpsman's shoulder, but, when she used that tone of voice, she frightened him.

"He'll tear us apart and himself as well, if we undo those straps." Gains unlocked the door, but didn't want to enter the room.

"Well, then we just won't let him, will we?" She marched into the room with Gains behind her. "Give me a hand getting these things off him."

As soon as the restraints were removed, the Major sprang to his feet, ready to fight. He couldn't make sense of what he was seeing. His vision was blurred and he wanted to feel the satisfaction of his fists connecting with automated skin and breaking a few motherboards to relieve the roaring in his head. They were trying to trick him again, he thought. These two didn't look like AI's, but he knew better. He lunged for the large one, but fell as his legs gave out.

"Get out of here, Sergeant!" Jenny called as she knelt by the fallen man.

"But Doc?"

"I said out! Now! And lock the door," she ordered. "I've got a hypospray of ketamine handy, so keep an eye on us. If I have to use it, with the Greens still in his system, I'll need to intubate him fast!" Normally the medication wouldn't shut down his respiratory functions but phyllophetamines were unpredictable when mixed with other medications and she wouldn't take a chance that could be lethal to her patient.

"Major, let me help you." Jen touched her patient's shoulder.

"No!" He squinted. _'__What tricks were the AI's trying to pull now?'_ His mind was moving a mile a minute, but nothing made sense.

"Easy does it. I'm not going to hurt you." Jenny kept her voice soft and even as she moved away giving the man plenty of room. "Why don't you get up? It's cold down there."

"McQueen, Tyrus Cassius, Major, 821-36-97440." He kept repeating his name, rank and serial number as he stumbled to his feet and pulled away from this new enemy.

"Ahhhhh!" He cried out as his muscles contracted in massive cramps that had been building up in intensity for the last few hours.

"I can help you." The soft voice of the woman invaded his brain. Her arms moved around his waist. She took his weight and they limped to the bunk in the corner of the room.

"Let go of me," he gasped, trying to free himself from her. "Don't tie me down anymore."

"I'm not going to let anyone tie you down." Jen was horrified at the marks on his wrists where he had pulled against the straps.

"Take deep easy breaths and don't fight the spasms. It will only make them worse." Rubbing her hand along his shoulder, as he curled on his side, she could feel the muscles move beneath his skin as they tightened. "There isn't anything I can give you for the cramping," she whispered as his body was racked with pain.

McQueen gasped as sweat dampened his t-shirt. He fought to gain control, but minutes felt like hours. He wanted to hit out, to fight, but every time he moved, his muscles cramped and his bones were pulled almost out of their sockets. Outside of the pain he heard The Voice again, soothing him, telling him of sunny days with blue oceans and starry nights. The Voice spoke about flying free, but most of all it was telling him he was safe.

"There you go, Major, the spasms seem to be lessening." The Voice was just outside of his vision. It sounded familiar somehow. He wanted badly to trust The Voice. He was so tired. The Voice was right: his muscles were relaxing. Maybe he could trust it after all. Or was it just another AI trick?

"Take deep easy breaths, there you go, that's much better," Jenny could feel him relax beneath her hands. If she could keep him still, hopefully, the spasms wouldn't be too bad. From her research in phyllophetamine addiction, she knew that the next few hours were going to be the worst for him.

McQueen felt his body relax completely. His mind was in a whirl. They had him again. Those damn AI's had him again. But this time he had fooled them. They'd left him untied. Looking over his shoulder at the AI that was left to guard him, he saw that she was small. Her hand looked fragile on his arm. One move and he could snap her circuits in half and be out of here. _'Don't move yet,'_ he thought. '_Not quite yet, that stupid AI trusts you. Just a few more breaths and I'll be able to gather the strength to take her__out'._ He watched her over his shoulder as she sat on the side of his bunk, her hand relaxed and rubbing his back.

"Ohh-rah!" he screamed his battle cry as he turned leaping to his feet, grabbing the little AI by the shoulders and slamming her against the wall.

"Don't unlock that door!" she gasped as she was bounced against the wall, causing the hypospray, holding the ketamine to fly out of her pocket and roll under his bunk.

"Who are you?" McQueen's eyes bore into hers. She didn't feel like an AI. She felt human. And her eyes....they looked like a woman's eyes. In his confusion he gripped her tighter, holding on until his mind cleared.

"Major, I'm Jennifer Kirkwood, your doctor. You're in phyllophetamine detox," her voice was soft and gentle as she used reality to help fight his hallucinations. "Please, you're hurting me."

"No," he shook his head in denial. His face inches from hers. "No, that was years ago. I kicked the damn Greens years ago!"

"Major McQueen, you're hurting my arms." She pushed gently against his chest. She knew she was going to have finger shaped bruises where his hands were digging into her and resigned herself to a few weeks of long sleeves. "Please, Major, we need to get you laying down before we both fall down."

"No, it's a trick," he whispered

"You're going to be all right." Jen wasn't afraid, but she knew she should have been. The average Marine knew over 200 ways to kill with his bare hands. It was rumored that in-vitro's were taught hundreds more. Added to that was his superior height and strength potentiated by the phyllophetamine madness.

"Look at me, Major, really look at me." She gazed into his eyes and saw the beginning of doubt. "I'm not an AI. I'm not going to hurt you."

"Who are you?" He shook his head trying to clear his vision. A memory buried deep was trying to surface.

"Jenny, I'm Jenny…ahh…Dr. Jenny Kirkwood." She saw a moment of recognition flicker in the blue depths of his eyes.

"I know your voice....but it's more than that..." He leaned his head against her neck and inhaled. "Roses? I remember smelling roses and hearing a soft voice and I knew I was safe."

She could feel his arms begin to shake and knew muscle spasms were starting, again. "Please, let me help you. I won't let you fall."

"You want to help? Don't let them hurt me again..." He fought the pain that was moving up his body. He still held the woman, but this time not to harm her, but to protect himself.

"We can get through this together." She gripped him around the waist the first spasm shook him. Together they stumbled to the bunk and she got him back where he belonged.

"Don't leave," he whispered pulling her hand to him. "As long as there is the scent of roses, I know I'll be safe."

It was a long night for both of them, but Jenny stayed by his side helping him fight his demons. When the spasms shook him and he couldn't fight them, she fought them for him. They had other long nights in detox, but that one was a turning point for Tyrus Cassius McQueen.

* * *

_The Saratoga October 2063, Sickbay__:_

"I can't stop the bleeding," Jenny whimpered as she tossed and turned, bringing him back to the present.

"Easy there." He fingered the short curls that surround her face. He was intrigued as he played with her thick blonde hair. In all the time he'd known her, it had always been long. "You're safe. Go back to sleep."

Her eyes tried to open as she smiled. "It's so nice to dream about you and not see ships exploding." Then her eyes closed and she slept.

He folded his arms on her bed and put his head down as he gave in to exhaustion. It had been a long, rough day and he had been fighting to keep a door locked tightly on memories that were better left buried. But he owed a debt to the woman whose soft breathing was playing hell with his composure. Maybe if he paid that debt in full, the door would be easier to keep locked.

* * *

_The In-Vitro Health Facility L.A. Calif. three years earlier__:_

McQueen didn't know how many nights Dr. Kirkwood spent in the padded room sitting beside him. He had lost track of time somewhere along the line. He remembered bits and pieces of what had happened, but was never sure what was drug-induced nightmare and what was real. All he knew was that when she was there, he felt safe, at a time when his world was out of control. It was a new experience to let someone else take care of him and he wasn't sure he liked it.

One evening, not long after he had been moved from the detox room to a regular hospital room, Jenny arrived later than usual. Knocking on his open door, she didn't see him at first. The pool of light from his reading lamp showed a bed with unwrinkled sheets; so tidy you could bounce a quarter on them, and a book sitting open. Everywhere else there was only shadows.

"Major McQueen?" She called out softly, her breath catching as he turned quietly from the window in the corner. His dark navy blue sweat suit caused him to blend with the shadows and the night.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you." He watched her as she pulled off a bright flower-print scrub hat and tucked the piece of colorful cotton in the waist of light blue surgical scrubs. Hair, usually kept neatly under control with clips and hairpins, fell past her shoulders in waves.

"How are you feeling tonight?" She asked as she consulted her palm computer for the latest test results on her patient.

"Better." His eyes traveled over her disheveled appearance and tired droop of her shoulders. "Since when do they let shrinks perform surgery?"

"They don't." Jen smiled up at him as she twisted her hair on top of her head and wove a pencil through a makeshift bun she was trying to put into place. She knew she didn't look the least bit professional, but her tailored slacks and silk blouse were in her locker along with her lab coat. Scrubs would have to do. Once she showered and changed, she doubted she'd have had the energy to do her rounds.

"According to your latest blood tests..." She pulled a chair over to the light by his bed and sat down as she moved through the screens looking for his records.

"So why the surgical get-up?" He leaned his hip against the foot of his bed watching her, unsure what to think about this new side to his doctor.

She looked up at him, slipped out of her clogs, and put her sock feet up on the edge of his bed. "The five of us who run The In-vitro Health Facility have to wear many hats." She grinned as she lifted the end of the scrub hat she had just taken off. "I'm a surgeon by specialty, but have done extensive research into the phyllophetamine family of drugs so they fall under my providence. You already had your first session with Jamison Werner, our group psychiatrist this morning."

"So you're the one I have to thank for that," McQueen grunted.

"It's all part of the hospitality." She shrugged and smiled.

"By the way, just make yourself right at home." He thought she looked about sixteen years old in the baggy scrubs. He was sure she had no idea that soft curls framed her face instead of staying put in the lop-sided bun she had so determinedly pulled her hair into moments ago.

"I think I will. It's been a long day." She leaned her chair onto its back legs as she returned her attention to the small computer and sighed quietly as the muscles in the back of her legs began to stretch out after standing for almost nine hours.

McQueen did a double take. This was not the woman he had been watching for almost ten days. Her posture was so out of character that it was like watching a stranger. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, until he looked into her eyes and realized she was putting on an act.

"The surgery didn't go well did it, Lieutenant?" His quiet deep voice caught her off guard. Her mask slipped long enough for him to see deep pain and loss. He marveled as she battled to regain her professional calm.

"I've told you before; I prefer to be called Doctor..." For a moment she thought she could keep up the deception, but exhaustion won out and the front legs of Jenny's chair hit the floor, followed by her feet. "Well, your powers of perception are greatly improved. What gave me away?"

"You don't strike me as the kind of woman who would be casual about a strange man's bed," McQueen grinned and nodded toward where her feet had been resting. "The bravado was a good touch, but as I said, you're not the type."

"Hmm I'll have to keep that in mind." She slid into her clogs and stood, unsure if she'd been insulted or complimented. "Your latest blood tests are within normal limits, but I'd like to make sure your electrolytes stay that way."

"You're not going to tell me about it, are you Doctor?" He had heard the unusual activity and running feet in the early morning, but had missed the significance.

"I can't, Major, but thank you for asking." She smiled sadly.

"Will you be all right?" It was disconcerting to see the woman who had been so strong for him looking fragile.

"Nothing a few hours sleep and a hot meal won't take care of." She smiled and changed back to her old self before his eyes. "Okay, McQueen, you know the drill. Stand straight, close your eyes, and touch your nose with the first finger of your right hand and then the left. Repeat it five times...Very good. Now walk in a straight line, one foot in front of the other, toe to heel...Excellent. Now, up here." She patted his bed and engaged the controls to raise its height once he was in place.

Jen stood three feet in front of her patient. "Look at me right here," she said as she touched her nose. "Without moving your head, follow my finger." She moved her hand to the right, and then to the left as his eyes tracked perfectly. "Much better!"

"If you don't make it as a surgeon, the Marines can use you as a drill sergeant." His eyes followed her fingers as they went through the quick neuro exam.

"From you, that's high praise," she chuckled as she stepped to his left side with a pencil-sized flashlight in her hand. "Close your right eye." Leaning in she rested her left hand on his shoulder for balance and looked deep into his left eye. "Now the other side please."

The first time Jenny had done that kind of test he'd wondered if she was playing games with his head. Some natural-born women enjoyed teasing male Tanks. But as he had said earlier, she wasn't the type. She was always cool, professional and kind.

This time there was something different and it wasn't simply her hand on his shoulder, which was usually light and controlled, but tonight shook ever so slightly. He didn't know if it was caused by the tickle of her hair on his cheek mixed with her soft rose scent so close to his nose. Maybe it was her wristwatch, safety-pinned to her pocket of her scrubs, now forgotten as it swayed over her left breast. Or was it the vulnerability he had seen in her eyes earlier? She was breaking his concentration and it only served to add to his restlessness.

"You're doing much....better, Major." Jen made quick notations on her computer as she talked.

"I hear a 'but' in your voice, Doctor." He had moved back to the window, intent on watching the stars again but the doubt he sensed in her drew his full attention.

"As I said earlier, you're very perceptive. It's a good sign that you're so discerning. From what I've read that's your norm." She stepped closer, being careful to stay outside of his personal space. "But at this point in detox, especially given the results of your blood tests, you shouldn't be as moody and restless as you are. That is not such a good sign." Jenny hugged her hand computer to her chest, meeting his cool inscrutable gaze with a warm compassionate one.

"You have to understand, Doctor," McQueen's voice sounded as if he'd had to pull it from the depths of his soul as he spoke of things he'd never shared with anyone. "I usually am a bit...moody and....restless."

"Major..." Jen's brow rose in disbelief, "Moody I'd buy under different circumstances, but restless...never."

"Stop crowding me!" he snapped. The small blonde woman read him too well. She'd seen him out of control and vulnerable. It gave her the advantage, causing his anger and frustration to grow.

"McQueen, talk to me! I'm only trying to help." She shot back, her temper frayed from too many hours of fighting to stem the flow of blood and losing.

"Talk to you? You're a surgeon, only good for cutting and stitching." His cold sarcasm reduced all the care she'd given him to nothing. "Why are you here anyway, looking for cheep thrills digging around in a Tank's emotions? 'Cause I gotta tell ya, Doc, you're wasting your time, we don't have 'em."

"Ahhhh," she gasped and rocked back at the biting insult. "Don't ever talk about yourself that way again." She glared at him. "You're right, though, I am a surgeon. If you'd be more comfortable with our psychiatrist, I'll arrange for Dr. Werner to see you in the morning." As she spoke Jen saw something flicker in his cold blue eyes. For a moment they were filled with confusion and fear that he fought to mask.

They stared at each other, both trying to understand the other. It was a small thing on McQueen's part, but essential. He saw again how disheveled and exhausted Dr. Kirkwood was, despite her best efforts to appear otherwise. She saw a man who was fighting to get gain some control of his life.

"Very good, Major," she murmured. "You're not only perceptive, but manipulative, as well." She smiled gently to take the sting out of her words. "The manipulation is a good thing when used appropriately but at the moment it can only hinder your progress."

"In the Corp, they call it commanding," his reply was gruff, but his anger had slipped away.

"I'm sure they do." She looked up at him assessing and nodding at what she saw. The movement of her head caused the pencil that held her hair in a sloppy bun to give way and fall to the floor. Thick blonde waves surrounded her face and dropped to her shoulders as she stooped to pick up the fallen object. But McQueen beat her to it.

"Your reflexes have returned I see." Jenny held out her hand for the long yellow object he'd picked up off the floor. Less than an inch separated them as they knelt under the window.

"Are you keeping a mental checklist?" He knew they were watching him and it added to his feelings of being trapped. He was a prisoner again, one of his own making, but a prisoner none-the-less.

"We have to chart your progress." She smiled apologetically as she tried to rise. Her legs were stiff and tired from standing in surgery for over nine hours and didn't want to cooperate.

Gently and unobtrusively McQueen wrapped his hand around her upper arm and took her weight as they stood. The feel of her slim muscles over small bones felt familiar, but he knew he'd never touched her before.

"Thank you," she smiled gratefully. "Why don't we sit down?" She motioned him to the side of his bed as she took the visitor's chair. "Now lets start again? What can I do to make this easier for you?"

McQueen blinked to hide his surprise at her causally spoken question. There were a hell of a lot of things a woman who looked like her could do to make things easier for a man. A tiny voice inside of him wondered if the return of desire was anywhere on that checklist she was keeping. Even as he thought it, he knew she hadn't meant her question that way. As he'd stated earlier she wasn't the type to be casual about a strange man's bed and he doubted she was casual about strange men period.

"Major, please, if you'd really be more comfortable with Dr. Werner--"

"No," he cut her off. "No, I...ah...trust you." Ty realized that he did and it caught him by surprise. He could only think of one other person who he trusted, Captain Glen Ross.

"All right then." She smiled slightly and leaned toward him in her chair. "I know we're both tired, but we've already broken through your wall of _command_, so talk to me."

"I need...I need..." he whispered. McQueen couldn't remember ever asking anyone for help before and the words simply wouldn't form. He tried a different tact. "I'm feeling trapped. It's like being a POW all over again."

"I see," she murmured. Jen leaned her elbows on her knees, supporting her chin with folded hands as she thought of the best, most honest way to respond. "I can understand why you would feel that way, but it is important for you to recognize a few things." She straightened and leaned closer to him. "Most importantly, you aren't a prisoner. You signed yourself in, you could sign yourself out right now, but if you did, you wouldn't be recertified to fly. That's the whole point, about all of this, isn't it?" She touched his arm to make sure he was listening to her. "I get the feeling you need to fly like others need to breathe."

"Do you think I'll ever be allowed back in a cockpit again?" his words were hushed as he fought anxiety.

"Yes, I do, but it'll take work. You need to get healthy and prove to me that you've kicked the Greens forever, then, if necessary, I'll pull every string I have to get you back in the sky." She pulled back, realizing that she had been invading his personal space for too long. "As for your immediate problem, I have an idea about that. I'll get back to you about it first thing in the morning. Try and get some sleep."

As she left, she turned back for one last check on her patient. He was lost in thought. His eyes staring off into a distance, seeing things she could only imagine.

* * *

_The Saratoga Sickbay 2063_

Jenny woke slowly to a pounding head and the even breathing of a man she had thought had died months earlier.

"Ty?" she whispered as she watched him sleeping. Still confused by all that had happened, but never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, she reached out and ran her fingers over his silver hair that was so close under her hand. Her wrist was grabbed in an iron grip as he moved instantly from sleep to wakefulness.

"Your reflexes are as good as ever, I see." Jennifer Kirkwood smiled sleepily at Lt. Col. T.C. McQueen, as his fingers loosened.

"Jen, what the hell happened?" he whispered.

"That's what I'd like to know," her voice cracked. "May I have some water, please?"

"Let me help you." He supported her back when she tried to sit up but was unable to do so unaided. When her hand shook as she held the glass, he curled his fingers over hers as she drank.

"Thanks." She missed the warmth of his body against hers after he laid her back down and moved to his chair. "God, I'm so confused!"

"Shhhh or the Old Battle Ax will throw me out." He leaned his elbows on her bed, unable to pull away from her completely.

"That 'Old Battle Ax' runs a tight ship. You Marines are all alike, no respect for the Medical Corps." She relaxed as they fell into the comfortable old banter.

"I agree, she's a damn fine nurse. She's sewed me up once or twice," he admitted. "Jen, what in the world happened and how did you get out here?"

"No, you first." She reached for his hand, needing to touch him to make sure he was really alive. She needed assurance too badly to wonder why. "I was told all the Angry Angels died in The Battle of the Edge."

"We almost did," he shook his head, not wanting to remember. "Three of us made it back to Earth. McDougall died before I shipped out and I don't know what happened to Watts. The last time I saw him he was in a coma, on life support."

"But you're all right, nothing happened to you?" She watched his face carefully in the shadows for any sign that he had been hurt.

"I'm alive," he dug for the words to tell her about that last battle. Until now he hadn't talked about it to anyone, since the official debriefing. "My hammer took a hit and I lost stabilizer controls. As I was fighting to keep the Chigs off me long enough for my secondary systems to kick in, my console exploded. That's the last thing I remember until I woke up in the hospital in Loxley."

"Nooo," she whispered.

"The explosion shattered the faceplate of my helmet. I had burns, and a wrenched back, but the major damage was to my inner ear. My balance was destroyed. They were able to restore it by implanting a myo-electronic feedback device."

"But you're a hammerhead pilot," Jenny gasped at the ramifications of what she was hearing. "Those MEF's can't withstand the G-forces produced in battle."

"I was a hammerhead pilot," he smiled sadly.

"Oh God, I'm sorry," Jen shook her head in disbelief. She was one of the few people who understood the gravity of his loss.

"It could have been worse," his voice turned cool, indicating the subject was closed.

"What about Collins?" Jenny had been at Gloria's memorial service, but needed to hear first hand what had happened to her.

"She fought long and hard like the rest of us, but the Chigs blew her hammerhead into a million pieces. One second she was there and the next she wasn't. It happened so fast I don't thing she felt a thing."

"Oh, Gloria!" she signed, feeling the loss of her friend deeply. The bond between the small blonde doctor, once known as Angel-Doc, and the tall mouthy pilot, call sign Gabriel, had surprised everyone, not least of all Gloria Collins.

"You're the only one I know of who got away with calling her by her first name." McQueen smiled. "If any of us had tried it, we'd have been ducking her right hook."

"Wait a minute," Jenny had been distracted by the fact he had been injured and had let him lead her away from what had been worrying her. "I still don't understand. I received a telegram from the Marines, officially notifying me of your death."

"It had to have been a clerical error. So many people died in that battle. I'm sure at one point they thought we were all dead." He was trying to dance around the issue.

"That still doesn't explain why I got you next-of-kin telegram? It doesn't make any sense." She pushed.

"I put your name down as the person to be notified in case of emergency." He decided it would be easier to gloss over it now, than have her do any snooping on her own. "It seemed more appropriate than to have Amy's name notified." He was careful not to say when the change had taken place. After all, she had been his doctor three and a-half years ago, then again for almost a year when she was assigned as Medical Specialist to the Angels. It was the logical thing to do, wasn't it?

"Now it's your turn, Jen, how did you end up on that godforsaken planet?"

"I'm not sure really. When war broke out, I was still officially on medical leave, so I joined Dr. Werner in Washington when Secretary General Chartwell was assassinated. Things went crazy. There was a state of martial law for in-vitros. They were being arrested and questioned, then forced to take an oath of allegiance. The worst part of it all was that no in-vitro was allowed the right of council.

"We took it all public, being as noisy and pushy as possible. It was amazing. We raised enough support to force the issue. If we couldn't do away with the oath of allegiance, we insisted that anyone questioned had a right to council. At the very least one of the five of us had to be present to protect anyone who didn't know his or her rights. It took a while, but cooler heads prevailed."

McQueen remembered his own experience after Chartwell had been killed. If it hadn't been for Commodore Ross, he and Hawkes could have been in deep trouble. He still felt dirty when he thought about the incident.

"When we got back to the In-vitro Health Facility, we had lost our grants and government funding and we had all been reassigned. It happened so quickly that none of us realized what was going on until it was too late."

Something wasn't right here. He didn't like what he was hearing, but he couldn't put his finger on the problem. It sounded to him as if someone wanted the doctors out of the way, someone with power. "Where are the others assigned?" he carefully probed.

"I don't know," she sighed. "They split us up. I do know that we were all posted off Earth, even Carmine Delaney. Ty, Carmine is almost 78 years old."

"I'll see what I can find out." His unease was growing. "It sounds as if your politics may have gotten you into trouble again."

"I'm not going to argue politics with you tonight. My head hurts too much to think straight," she challenged.

"It's not your politics that bother me. It's the way you approach them." he frowned pushing her bangs out of her eyes.

"Stop that!" She gripped his wrist and glared at him. "I know my hair is a mess. I'm a mess…but…" She shrugged refusing to feel sorry for herself. "I took a K-bar to it the first week we were in the cave. It kept getting in my way."

"Didn't I offer to do that for you once?" His eyes sparkled as he remembered her irritated rejoinder a year earlier.

"Yes, you did, thank you very much." For a moment she was back on the deck of the _Windswept_. Her hat had been blown off in a squall and she'd had to scramble to keep it from going overboard as she'd gripped her hair to keep it out of her face. McQueen, sitting at the wheel, had offered her the use of his butterfly knife, and grinned at her dilemma.

"Jen," he touched her cheek bringing her back to the present. "It'll grow back." He really wanted to tell her how attractive she looked with wild uneven curls dancing around her face, but he wasn't a man who used words like that.

"I know," she sighed. "If nothing else it's given me a new appreciation of those wicked knives you Marines carry. They're good for chopping firewood, cutting your hair…and…ah…amputating a man's arm." Her stark words caught him by surprise.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that," he whispered, finally realizing how bad things had been for her the last four weeks.

"I was terrified that they'd die before we could be rescued. General Savage would have if I hadn't…ah…hadn't..." She shivered at the memory of trying to use the large blade like a scalpel.

"Jen, look at me." McQueen gently raised her chin until their eyes met. "You did what had to be done."

"I know." She nodded and took a deep breath.

"Good, now you need to get some sleep."

"Yes, sir, Colonel, sir." She gave him a forced grin and a cocky salute. She was afraid to close her eyes because of the frenzied dreams that were lying in wait for her. Once he left he would never know that she'd done everything in her power to stay awake.

"Close your eyes, Jen." He had seen fear cross her face and knew about the demons that were waiting in her sleep. "I'll stay here with you."

"You won't leave me?" She asked tiredly.

"No, I'm right here," he promised.


	2. Ch: 2 And Having Writ

  
  
  


Chapter 2: And Having Writ   
  


_The Saratoga November 1, 2063 _

Twice during the night Com. Brill had heard Dr. Kirkwood call out in her sleep. The first time, Brill had gone to check on Kirkwood, she was surprised to find Col. McQueen still sitting by the Doctor's bedside. Before Brill had a chance to send him on his way, she watched in awe as the moody Colonel whispered quietly to her patient, and Dr. Kirkwood was soothed, without waking. 

"Colonel?" She motioned McQueen to the door. "I thought you left hours ago?"   
  
"I owe a debt." McQueen looked embarrassed for a moment, then his face closed down, grim and serious. "Maybe this will be a down payment on it." 

"You owe me a drink for letting you stay," Brill's eyes sparkled. McQueen playing nurse was something she thought she would never see. "And none of that rot gut they serve in the Tun. If I've learned anything in my 20 years in the Navy it's that any Marine 'worth his salt' has a bottle of good scotch stashed away somewhere." 

"Well, never let it be said that I'm not 'worth my salt'. You name the time and the place." McQueen gave her one of his half smiles and started to turn back to his real concern. 

"McQueen," Brill touched his arm. "Be out before change of shift. I don't want any trouble."   
  
"You won't even know I was here," he whispered as he returned to guard Jenny, ignoring the double meaning in Brill's words. 

Joan Brill shook her head. "_I think the only thing that is important is that the woman in_ _that bed knows you're here, bucko_," she thought as she checked on her other patients. She would give a month's ration points to hear the story behind all this. 

McQueen made good on his promise. Brill never heard or saw him again that night. One minute all was quiet, as she did her rounds, the next, she heard water running in Dr. Kirkwood's bay. It was her only clue that the Colonel must have left. 

"Up a little early aren't you, Doctor?" Com. Brill asked as she entered the small room. The Doctor was leaning over the tiny sink washing her face. "How did you sleep?" 

"A few nightmares. Nothing I couldn't handle," Jenny avoided the Commander's eyes. They both pretended that McQueen hadn't been in the room most of the night. 

"How's your head doing?" Brill was fascinated by the woman standing in front of her wearing a hospital gown, short curly hair that looked as if someone had taken a hatchet to it, and a small gold rope bracelet on her left wrist. "_There was more than meets the eye to this one."   
_   
"Much better, but I hurt in places the medical texts say don't exist," Jen groaned as she stretched. "How are my patients doing?"   
  
"The General was restless during the night, but everyone else slept well. There's a Red Cross transport due in today to take wounded out to the "Clara Barton." As of last night, the General and three of the others were slated to be on it." Brill didn't miss the proprietary way the doctor spoke of the men she had been stranded with. 

"I want to see them before they go." Jen stated briskly. "Sorry, Commander," she grinned as she realized how rude she had sounded bossing the nurse around her own Sickbay. "I guess you can take the patients away from the doctor, but you can't take the doctor away from the patients." 

"Understood, Doctor," Brill smiled back. "You need to get back in that bed. Pull up something to read, if you like, on the console to your left, but rest a bit more. Breakfast will be brought around in 30 mikes and the Doc's will be rounding not long after that. Commodore Ross left a message that he'll be in to talk with you at 1100 hours." She helped Jen back to bed, then took her through the commands to pull up the ship's library before she left. 

Some of what Brill had heard and seen in the last twelve hours was beginning to make sense. Every time she had spoken to any of the men from Kordis, they had a new story to tell of the 'Lady-Doc' and how she had kept them all alive for almost four weeks. The men, particularly liked to tell of the tales that Kirkwood had told them to keep them occupied. Daring adventures about a Marine pilot, they all referred to as 'The Major'. McQueen's presence here, last night, made sense, if Brill's line of thinking was correct. She bit her lip to keep from sighing, _"this can only end badly for the little Doc,"_ she thought.   
...............................   
  
"Are you up for some visitors?" A short dark haired Marine stuck her head in Jenny's room. Jen thought she looked familiar, but couldn't place her. 

"Do I know you?" She had just finished eating breakfast and pushed her tray-table to the side, sitting straighter in bed. 

"Sorry, Doc, I'm Lt. Shane Vansen and we're the Wildcards," she indicated, as she introduced each men and women standing behind her. "We helped take you off planet yesterday. We wanted to see how you were doing?" 

"Please, come in," Jen welcomed the company, even if it came in a crowd. "Thank you again for what you did." 

"No problem, Ma'am. We were glad to help," Wang smiled. 

"We come with gifts," 'Phousse added as she held out a black Saratoga coffee mug that she had been hiding behind the tall Marine standing in front of her. 

"Well then definitely come in," Jenny grinned as she smelled coffee. "Is that what I think it is?" 

"Here you go Ma'am," 'Phousse handed over the mug and marveled as Jenny curled both hands around it, inhaling the aroma, before she took a sip. She appeared to be enjoying the coffee with as many senses as could be brought into play. 

"How? How did you know?" Jen took another swallow. They had all missed coffee on Kordis, but this was the closest to a cappuccino she had had in months! She could even taste a slight hit of nutmeg. 

"We can't take the credit for it, Ma'am," Wang replied. "We ran into Colonel McQueen as we were leaving the Mess. He commented that the coffee was bad down here, during his last 'stay.' Since he was about to send his usual morning cup back, we took advantage of the situation." 

"Oh..ahh..well, please give the Colonel my thanks." Jen kept her eyes on the milky liquid until she was sure her face was under control. _She had introduced him to the joys of cappuccino. And he still drank it? _

"Sure will Ma'am. You really like that stuff? There are a couple of Tanks that work in the Mess. They make it up for him special, every morning. I could....," Hawkes wanted to make a good impression on the woman who had done so much for in-vitros. He was surprised when her mug hit her table with a thud and she looked at him with cold eyes. 

"No one, Lieutenant..." Jen looked on his shirt to verify his name, "Hawkes. No one, uses that expression in front of me! The word is in-vitro, not tank. In-vitro, if you must make a distinction at all? Got that?" Her eyes were laser sharp as she looked into his. 

"But Ma'am.." Hawkes was caught out of his depth. He had never run into a natural-born that was so passionate about the issue, unless they were chasing him with a rope. 

"Excuse me, Dr. Kirkwood," Nathan cut in. "Hawkes IS an in-vitro." 

"All the more reason you shouldn't use that degrading term, Lieutenant." Her voice softened as she motioned Hawkes to her side. "That's one of the many ways people use to control you. If you think of yourself as less, how can you possibly expect others to think of you as an equal? It's bad enough that they take away your heritage?" She shook her head. "Please, don't get me started on this issue. I'll talk your ears off." Jenny picked up her 'almost cappuccino' and savored the flavor. 

"Would you autograph this?" Nathan West stepped forward, holding his copy of THE IN-VITRO CHRONICLES. "I never heard you speak, but we were at the Rights rally in Houston. You had been slated to be there, but were scratched at the last minute due to illness. 

Jenny held the book in one hand. Her other hand moved to the back of her neck to her scar. She hadn't been sick. She had been mugged just hours before she was to speak at the rally. It was a relief to know that it wasn't general knowledge. 

"You really want me to sign this?" She blushed. 

"Sure do, Doc. You're a part of history," Nathan smiled at the woman whose book was having such an impact on so many lives.   
  
"That's not why I wrote this," Jenny protested. "It was something that needed to be written, that's all. It was never meant to be about me. It was only to be a small book that told in-vitros where they came from. Give them a reason to feel proud about their century old heritage..." Jen ran out of steam as she faced the grinning Marines. 

"Well it did all that, and more." 'Phousse smiled at the woman who had unwittingly caused sweeping social changes. "After Diane Hayden was elected as Secretary General of the World, she quoted your book on the Floor of The World Council, squelching once and for all any attempt to bring back indentured servitude." 

"I didn't realize how out of touch I had been. I wasn't even sure who won the election. I've been on Kordis for the last three months." She shook her head at all that had happened. "Do I make this out to you, Nathan?" She indicated the book in her hand. 

"Could you sign it to.... Kylen and Nathan?" A silence fell over the room at West's request. Jen didn't miss the tension as she quickly wrote on the inner cover of the book then handed it back to West. 

"Thanks.." He read the inscription and caught his breath. 'To Kylen & Nathan: always believe in the future, Jenny Kirkwood.' "Thanks Ma'am, will you excuse me?" West left quietly with the book in hand. 

"What did I do wrong?" Jen addressed the rest of the 58th. 

"You did something very right, Doctor," 'Phousse stepped toward her bed. She had seen the inscription in the book. "Nathan's fiancée, Kylen was on the Tellus Mission. Nathan was supposed to be there, too, but, well it's a long story." 

"Does he know if she's alive?" 

"He believes she is. WE believe she is." The four young people shook their heads in agreement as 'Phousse spoke. 

"Why don't you guys head back," Shane indicated to Wang and Hawkes to break the silence "'Phousse and I'll follow shortly." 

After the men had said their good-byes, Shane stepped toward the woman in the hospital bed. "Please don't take this the wrong way, Dr. Kirkwood." Shane reached to her sleeve pocket. "I cut my own hair, 'Phousse's, and a few others. I couldn't help noticing yesterday....?" Her voice subsided as she pulled out a pair of short sharp scissors. 

"You think I need it evened out a bit?" Jen giggled. She had dreaded facing Commodore Ross looking as if her hair had been through a meat grinder. "I'm a good surgeon, but cutting hair just isn't the same. I was trying to figure out how I could get down to the ship's barber." 

"Don't go there unless you want a buzz cut." Both of her visitors said at the same time, causing all three women to laugh as they helped Jen to a chair and wrapped a blanket around her. 

"It's really not as bad as it could be," Shane ran her hands through the uneven curls. "What did you use to cut it, a k-bar?" She joked. 

"Actually, yes" Jenny admitted shyly. 

"In that case you did a great job...." 'Phousse saw a dark look come over Shane and the room became deathly quiet. 

"I forgot to worn you," Jenny froze as she realized that Vansen and Damphousse were staring at the back of her neck. "Look guys it's just a..." 

"It's a burn scar," she could feel Vansen's rage. "And not that old of one either. How in the hell did that happen?" 

"It's nothing, really," Jenny denied. 

"It looks like something from where I'm standing! Did one of those men on Kordis hurt you, Ma'am?" 

"No, no," Jenny protested. "They would never hurt me." She thought for a moment, but didn't see an alternative to the truth. "I'll tell you, but it isn't to go any further and that's an order," Jen spoke with an authority that neither Marine could deny. 

"Yes, Ma'am," they both answered. 

"Your hair's a bit short in the back. Part of that scar is going to show," Shane added. 

"Just do the best you can, please. I'll deal with any questions, if they should arise." Jenny turned in the chair. Gathering courage to talk about what happened. 

She relaxed as she felt Vansen run her hands through her hair and heard the quiet snipping of scissors. Both Marines were waiting uneasily for Jenny's explanation. 

"Ok,... it was at the rally that Lt. West spoke about.......The one where I was to speak.......Then got too 'sick' to attend....." Jenny talked in fits and starts. She had told most of the story to one other person. His anger had been so great that he had cut himself off from her, convinced that he held part of the blame. "There were five of them......I fought......,ended up with some broken ribs and a broken wrist.........One of them decided......He decided that since I was in favor of in-vitros, that they would give me a navel on the back of my neck. The one who did it was a cigar smoker, I could smell it on him. That's what they used." 

"My God!" 'Phousse was shocked. Shane stopped cutting and gripped Jenny's shoulder. 

"It could have been worse." Jen swallowed bile as she thought about what they would have done to her. This part she hadn't told anyone else. Ty's anger had been so great as it was, that she hadn't dared tell him everything. It felt good to be able to talk to women. "They had started to...to tear at my blouse, when Cigarman, decided it would be cute to brand me first. It saved me, really it did. My screams were heard and they were scared off." 

"Were they ever caught?" Shane asked. Her voice calm, but 'Phousse could see the deadly look in her eyes. 

"No, it was dark, and they threw a hood over my head and well.... Look it was months ago... The burn had to heal in order to get optimal results from plastic surgery, but war broke out. And well, I just didn't want to deal with it. It cost me too much." Jen needed badly to change the subject. "How's the hair coming along?" 

"Take a look for yourself." Shane helped Jen over to the mirror above the sink. 

"You did a great job, thanks!" She smiled at her reflection, then turned to the women who were watching her. "You're right, the scar isn't covered completely. If you should hear any talk, or questions, please, say you heard I received the injury when the ISSCV crashed four weeks ago." 

"You gave us an order, Ma'am, we will follow it," Shane looked every inch a fighting Marine. 

"Lt. Vansen, you and I know there are ways around that. I may be Navy Medical Corps, but I wasn't born yesterday. It's not for me that I'm asking this." The stuttering frightened woman of a few moments ago was replaced by a commanding personality. "I'm not the only Movement supporter this has happened to. One hears rumors all the time. In the few cases where it was verified, it caused a polarization of factions and violence broke out. The Movement is a peaceful one. Violence only detracts from the real issues and, in many cases, serves to remove any progress that is being made. This is a ship of 5,000 people and I refuse to be the cause of harm to anyone, on either side of the issue." 

"Point taken, Dr. Kirkwood," 'Phousse stepped forward and touched her shoulder. "Your secret is safe with us?" 

"Thank you very much, not only for the haircut, but also for listening. I didn't realize how much I missed the company of women." 

"Anytime, Ma'am," Shane smiled. "We need to be getting back now. Let us know if there is anything we can do for you."   
........................... 

Jenny looked at her watch. It was only 0930 and she was getting restless. Dr. Voss had been in shortly after her visit from the Wildcards. She had enjoyed the 'Card's stay over Voss'. He had been short tempered, bordering on rude. Although he hadn't said when she was getting out of Sickbay, he had extended her ambulation privileges so she felt free to move about and visit the men who had been her patients. 

Reaching for the gear bag she had always worn when in the field, and pulling a hospital robe over her gown, she headed out to see General Savage. She had something she had to give him before he was evacuated to the 'Clara Barton.' 

"General?" She knocked quietly on the door of his room. "It's Dr. Kirkwood, may I come in?" 

"Come," he called out. 

Jen moved to the bed where the General was propped up. He was still pale, but there was no sign of fever. "How are you feeling today?" She automatically reached for his wrist and took his pulse. 

"I'm doing much better, young lady. I owe you for my life and for the lives of the men who were with us." A stark white dressing hid his left shoulder and what was left of his upper arm, making the big man look even bigger. 

"Not for all of them," Jen bit her lip as she remembered the three who had survived the crash, but she had been unable to save in the days that followed. 

"It may not be proper, but given the lack of furniture, Doctor, sit up here beside me, while we talk." Savage patted the bed where his left arm should have been. He waited while Jen pulled herself up to sit where he had indicated. 

"That's better, now I don't have to worry about you passing out," he smiled at her. "Lady-Doc, you did all you could do. You kept us alive for almost four weeks, which is just short of amazing." 

"General, it's hard, knowing that things would have been different if my working conditions hadn't been so primitive." She raised a hand helplessly pointing where his missing arm should have been. "I am so sorry for having to do that the way it was done." 

"Jenny," he gripped her hand in his. "It saved my life. The doctors tell me the flap is healing nicely and I'll be able to be fitted with prosthesis when I get back to Earth. Ok, so maybe not one of the new ones, using AI circuitry, but I'll be fine. Just think how different things could have been, if you had nothing to work with at all, or even worse, if you hadn't survived the crash. We all would have died. 'The past is the past and can't be changed, we can only change how we let it affect our future.'" He grinned at her as he quoted from The In-Vitro Chronicles. 

Recognizing her own words, she blushed. "I hadn't realized you had read it, Sir." 

"I may not agree with your politics. But I am not a man who restricts his reading to one side of an issue, my dear." 

The door had opened as they were talking and Commodore Ross and Col. McQueen arrived for their meeting with the General. "Sorry to interrupt you Frank," Ross called out. "I'd like you to meet Lt. Col. McQueen. He is the man I mentioned when we talked earlier." 

"Colonel." Savaged nodded his head at McQueen. 

"Sir." McQueen's acknowledgement was respectful, but crisp. 

"It's no interruption, Glen. This is Dr. Kirkwood. I was telling you about her last night." A significant looked passed between the two high ranking officers that Jenny missed and McQueen didn't like. 

Standing with his back to the closed door, something sharp was gnawing at McQueen's insides. He had heard the gentle endearment the General had used toward Jen and she was sitting on his bed and holding his hand. Maybe, she had changed over the years? Maybe, she was the type to be casual about a strange man's bed? Maybe Savage wasn't a stranger? They had been stationed together for three months. He didn't like what he was thinking so he clamped down on it. _Bury it_, he thought to himself. _This is not_ _productive thinking. Besides, it's none of my business_. The winter chill in his eyes was the only clue that all was not well in Tyrus Cassius McQueen's world. 

"I should be going," Jenny slipped down from Savage's bed. McQueen was looking through her as if she didn't exist. Where had the man gone who had helped chase away the nightmares? She knew she had moved too fast when black spots swam in front of her eyes and her head rang with dizziness, causing her to grip the side table to regain her balance and pride. 

"Dr. Kirkwood?" Ross moved to her side. She had paled as she landed on her feet. 

"I'm okay, Commodore," she held up her hand to ward him off. "Just a touch orthostatic,...a..a...drop in blood pressure on a sudden movement." She clarified for the men who were staring at her. She took another deep breath and squared her shoulders. 

"I only stopped by to assure myself that you were all right and to give you this before you're shipped out for The Clara." Jen reached in her gear bag and opened the false bottom. "Here you go," she handed over his flight wings. "General, I'm very glad to be giving them back to you, instead of to Commodore Ross, to give to your wife. If you'll excuse me, I'll leave you to your meeting."   
  
Jenny walked quietly out of the room, back straight, head high, refusing to look to the right or the left. The only outward sign of nerves was her right hand fumbling with the bracelet on her left wrist. Her dignified exit caused her to miss McQueen's eyes softening momentarily, as they followed her out of the room. 

"Your wife? Frank what's going on here?" Ross' eyebrows shot up. He knew his friend had been divorced for years. His ex-wife hated the Air Force and would have probably destroyed the antique wings. 

"This," Savage handed the wings to Ross. "Look on the back. Under the clasp, there's a small compartment." Ross followed Savage's instructions, and a tiny data chip fell into his hand. 

"Well I'll be damned. So that's why you were so frantic to find them last night." Ross laughed. "The Doctor was too out of it to be questioned then. I was going to talk to her myself this morning. I'm going to have to chat with whoever checked her belongings. And what was all that malarkey about your wife?" 

"When I realized how sick I was. I gave the wings to Lady-Doc to keep in case I didn't make it. I told her to give them to you, with very special instructions to give them to my wife. I figured you would know that something was up and check them carefully." Shaking his head when he thought of Jenny. "She's quite something you know. That bag she kept them in was never off of her, even when she slept. The data chip was safer with her than it was with me. I'd bet money that she realized there was more to my wings than sentiment." 

"Speaking of Dr. Kirkwood, I did a bit of gentle probing as you asked me to last night. I brought Col. McQueen along, because he came to me with further information that may be of interest to you." 

"I'd like to get this settled before I'm shipped out. I owe her my life and I want to make sure she is safe. The information on that chip has waited this long, another few minutes won't matter." 

"I tapped into a few of my sources with the Joint Chiefs. It was strange," Ross frowned. He knew Savage wasn't going to like what he was going to tell him. "No one was willing to go out on a limb, but the gist of it was that Dr. Jennifer Kirkwood was to be assigned to a 'very forward' unit for the duration." 

"I was afraid of that." Savage nodded as the thought. "That was about the response I got when I tried to get her transferred off Kordis. I pushed harder, then we got so busy trying to keep hidden from the Chigs, it became a moot point. What is it that you can add to all of this, Colonel?" 

"I talked to Dr. Kirkwood late last night." McQueen proceeded carefully, not wanting to compromise Jen in any way. He told Savage the story that she had told him, about the defense of in-vitros after Chartwell was killed, and the subsequent closing of the Facility, and all five doctors being shipped out. 

"Sir," he turned to Ross. "Is there anyway you could find out where the other four doctors who ran The In-Vitro Health Facility are posted?" 

"I'll handle that from Earth, Colonel," Savage cut in. "It might be easier from there, and given my political leanings, there is less chance that I'll raise any red flags. Until we get this resolved, Glen, can you keep Dr. Kirkwood here?" 

"I'd be glad to. She'll be an asset to the medical staff of the Saratoga's Sickbay." 

"We'll need more than that Glen, if we are to cover her tail and yours." Savage looked thoughtful. 

"What did you have in mind?" 

"We need to make sure she is assigned to a unit, at least on paper, that sees a great deal of action. That seems to be the message you and I are getting from the Joint Chiefs' office." Savage frowned, "I have to tell you Glen, I don't like this one bit. Either these are some mighty strange coincidences, or someone wants Dr. Kirkwood and her group out of the way permanently." 

"I've got the perfect place for her," Ross smiled at McQueen, who got a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. "The 5-8, Col. McQueen's squad, has two in-vitros in it. What better place to assign her." 

"Sir, she's not a pilot, nor a Marine, what are we going to do with her?" McQueen protested. 

"This is a paper assignment only, Ty. She'll spend most of her time in Sickbay. One of your people is on loan aren't they?" 

"Yes, Sir." McQueen thought quickly and pulled up the pertinent details. "Lt. Winslow is doing temporary assignment with the 42nd, on the Kitty Hawk. She won't be back until late December."   
  
"We'll quarter her into Winslow's spot for the time being. It'll make things look more authentic and be easier for her to acclimate. Before the Lieutenant gets back, we'll move Kirkwood to quarters more fitting her rank. I'd like to bunk her where we can keep an eye on her until we get this mess straightened out. Ty, you and I'll work out the details later. I'll let her know of her change of assignment when I meet with her this morning." 

"Sir, I must protest." McQueen didn't know why he was fighting this so hard, it made sense. "I don't want my squad put at risk due to a non-combat trained person." 

"Colonel," the General cut in. "Remember she spent over three months on Kordis. During the last four weeks, while we were in hiding, she may have not been the highest-ranking officer there, but she was in command. Once I'm sure it's safe to do so, without calling undue attention to the her, I'm going to see that she is decorated for it." 

"Ty, this'll work. Having a doctor with your squadron could have saved us all a lot of trouble and maybe given us a jump on that new Chig 'light bomb' the 5-8 ran into on Tatarus. It won't be any different from when Dr. Kirkwood was Medical Specialist to the Angry Angels." Ross suggested. 

"There wasn't a war on then, Sir," McQueen added. The last thing he wanted was for it to be a repeat of Jen's time with the Angels. His self-control couldn't take it. 

"You were with the Angels?" Savage asked. He was remembering the stories he had heard about the 127th over the years. Now he knew why some of Dr. Kirkwood's tales had sounded so familiar. 

"Yes Sir." 

"Do I have to make that an order, Colonel?" Ross raised his eyebrows at McQueen, not understanding the in-vitro's protests. 

"No Sir, we'll make it work." McQueen was determined to do just that. 

The General gauged the cool-eyed Colonel by the door. He hadn't missed the look of surprised dislike that McQueen had quickly suppressed, when he had first entered the room. Savage had thought it was due to the General's anti-in-vitro political stance. But he had seen the way McQueen's body had tensed when the doctor turned so white and dizzy. Then watched as the Colonel appeared to relax, leaning back as if he didn't have a care in the world, when Ross took charge of that situation. _Maybe there was more to this than meets the eye? _

It made a man wonder when Kirkwood and McQueen had had a chance to talk. For that matter, Savage knew that the Doctor was no whiner. There had to be a bond here for Jenny to have told McQueen the story that he had just told them. It all added up to a very interesting picture. _Was this tough Colonel the source of the Doctor's hidden_ _strength?_ Savage thought to himself. _It looked like Ross had picked the right man for the job of  keeping  her safe._ .   
............................ 

"Dr. Kirkwood," Ross stuck his head into Jenny's room at exactly 1100 hours. "May I come in?" 

"Please do, Commodore." She pushed aside the console where she had been writing a report of the last four weeks. "Have a seat, Sir. It looks like doctors rate higher than Generals in Sickbay. I got some furniture," she cocked her left eyebrow in humor. 

"General Savage has been telling me some amazing stories about you, Doctor." It was hard for Ross to imagine the slight woman, sitting before him, having the strength to do all that she did. 

"I did what needed to be done, Sir. I only wish it could have been more." Jen tensed and fingered the gold rope bracelet on her left wrist. 

"Were you negligent in your duties in anyway?" Ross' voice was gruff. 

"No, Sir." 

"Were you careless?" 

"No, Sir." Jen gripped the thin rope tighter. "You'll have my report as soon as I get it finished." 

"Damn your report," Ross reached over and covered Jenny's hands with his. "Listen to me, Lieutenant Commander, you did your best. From where I sit, that was damn fine. You can't carry the responsibility of this war on your shoulders. All you can do is your best and get on with it. Do I make myself clear? Besides, you're going to break that pretty bracelet, if you're not careful." 

"Yes, Sir, and thank you," Jen smiled at him as she forced her hands to relax. _When had_ _this become a habit_, she wondered, still feeling the imprint of gold rope on her fingers. 

"I should be thanking you, Doctor," Ross gave her hand another squeeze before letting go of it. "You saved the life of one of my best friends. Frank Savage may Air Force, but I don't hold that against him, too much. We go back a long way." 

"Did anyone ever tell you that you're a very nice man, Commodore?" Jenny smiled at Ross. 

"Please, Doctor, talk like that will ruin my reputation." Ross screwed up his face into a fierce scowl making them both laugh. 

"Don't ever let it be said I tampered with anyone's reputation." Jen countered as she fluttered her eyelashes outrageously. 

"Dr. Kirkwood, I see it is going to be a pleasure to have you around." Ross liked talking to Jennifer Kirkwood. She was sensitive, smart and funny. 

"Pardon?" 

"You have a new posting, as of 1300 hours today." Now came the tricky part. Ross needed to make this sound as if it was completely normal to assign a doctor to a Marine Aviator Calvary Unit. "I know you've been with the General for the lasts three months, but I approached him to see if he would release you to serve on the Saratoga." 

"You'll have to excuse me, Commodore, but I wasn't aware that was how assignments were given." Jen had a feeling she was being maneuvered, and didn't like it. 

"They usually aren't, but I have a squad with some special needs, and we're understaffed in Sickbay. Since you were only on loan to the Air Force for the Kordis assignment, you fill the bill." Ross looked her in the eyes and dared her to call him a lair. 

"This squad? What kind of special needs, Sir?" Jenny was skeptical, but couldn't figure out why the Commodore would be trying to pull a fast one on her. 

"The 58th, Colonel McQueen's squad, has two in-vitros. Since you have a specialty in that area, the plan is for you to split your time between them and the Saratoga's Sickbay. I believe you've worked with the Colonel when you were both with the 127th."   
  
_Oh, Lord, that was why McQueen had looked as if he was about to spit nails when she had seen him in the General's room. He thought of her as nothing but trouble. Unfortunately, passing out at his feet on Kordis only proved his point_. This didn't feel right to Jenny. She was missing a piece of the puzzle. 

"What's really going on here, Sir?" Jenny challenged. 

"You have been given a new assignment, Lieutenant Commander," Ross brazened it out. "Dr. Voss is releasing you from here this afternoon. I'll see that Col. McQueen has one of his people escort you to your new quarters. I'm told it will be a few days before you're fit to return to active duty, so use the time wisely." 

"Yes, Sir." Things were spiraling out of Jenny's control again and she didn't like it.   
...............................   
  
The Wildcard's Quarters early November 2063 

Jenny fought in her sleep. No matter how fast she tied off a vessel, another one would appear and bleed. The old pattern became a mantra: tie, tie, cut; tie, tie, cut. Nothing was working, she couldn't stop the bleeding. She would have given her soul for a laser lig-a-ture. She was back in the cave and there were bodies everywhere. Her hands were covered in blood as she looked around in despair. She hadn't been able to save any of them. Then there was a light at the entrance to the cave. Ty was there, holding out his hand and calling her name. She turned and ran toward him, but just as she touched his fingers, they turned to dust and a laugh could be heard echoing back at her. _You don't think I'm really alive do you? _

She jerked herself awake, her hands covering her mouth. She looked around frantically, but everyone else seemed to be asleep. Her heart was pounding and her tank top was damp with sweat. Getting quickly out of bed she pulled on a pair of sweat pants and shoes. Quietly moving to the door, she slipped out of the quarters she shared with the Wildcards. This wasn't working out. She didn't know which she was more afraid of: her nightmares; or accidentally waking one of the young Marines as she called out their commanding officer's name in her sleep. 

It was the third night in a row Jenny's dreams had sent her walking through the darkened corridors of the Saratoga. Tonight's was the worst since she had left Kordis. She knew the cause was the telegram she had hidden under her pillow. The one she had received today notifying her of Carmine Delaney's death on an obscure moon in an out-of-the-way sector of space. It was hard to imagine the gentle old doctor dead in a horrific battle. 

Breathing deeply she concentrated on the slight rumble of engines that could be heard moving through the deck plating. Daytime noises obscured the gentle voice of the great ship. It was only at night that one could hear it_. Like hearing footsteps on Broadway at_ _dawn_. She grinned to herself, _you've been watching too many old vids, my girl. But oh, it helped take the mind off what was really important_. 

"Jen?" McQueen spoke quietly. The woman passing him in the hall had been so absorbed in her thoughts she hadn't seen him. "What are you doing wandering around at this hour of the night?" 

"I..a.." She stuttered. He had caught her completely off guard. 

"Insomnia or nightmares?" One look in her eyes and he had the answer to his question. 

"A bit of both," she bit her lip, embarrassed. If anyone had to find her, why did it have to be McQueen? Since she had been assigned to his squad, three days earlier, he had taken to sending her terse messages by way of Vansen or West, when he bothered to communicate with her at all. 

"Come with me," he knew just how to help her. He would tally the cost to his composure later. "I've got an idea that might help." 

"Ty, I'm not going to the gym at this hour. I've already worked out once today." She noticed his sweat suit and knew where he had been heading when she ran into him. 

"That's good," he turned to head back where he had come from. "That's one less argument we'll have, tonight." 

Five minutes, and a number of flights of stairs later they were in a small windowed alcove high above the port docking bays. 

"Oh my!" Jen shivered in awe as she looked out into space with an unrestricted view for 180 degrees. Her sweat damp tank top cold against her now dried skin, made her shiver again. "This is incredible."   
  
"Take this." McQueen pulled his sweatshirt over his head. Leaving him in sweat pants and a black t-shirt. 

"I can't. What about you?" Her protests were lost as he shoved it over her head and she was enveloped by the scent of him. His body-warmed shirt felt good against her skin. It was as if she was surrounding by him. Jenny locked her knees tightly so she didn't fall over as sensations assailed her. 

"Don't argue with me, Jen. I'm not the one running around the ship inadequately dressed." He pulled the waistband below her hips shaking his head at her and helping her sit on a ledge that allowed just enough room for two.   
  
"Thanks," she said gathering her arms around her and tucking her nose into the soft material of McQueen's sweatshirt. She inhaled deeply. Delaying tactics, that's what she needed. The man sitting next to her was too perceptive and all her defenses were down. She needed to reconstruct her walls before he took a good look at her again, or she would embarrass them both. "Why do l always smell Hammerhead fuel when I'm around you?" 

McQueen snorted as he was caught by surprise. A thing that didn't happen very often, but the woman sitting next to him had an uncanny knack of doing just that. "Hammerhead fuel you say?" 

"Yes," she breathed against the shirt again. "And I think sandalwood aftershave? I remember the mixture of scents as far back as the detox clinic." 

"Very good. Anyone who works around the Hammers will end up with that smell. It's from the residue that's left from the clean burn of HE3. You can't see it, but it's there. It gets on your hands and clothes and even the Saratoga's industrial strength laundry won't get it out." Laughing McQueen didn't realize that anyone but a pilot or member of the flight crew would have picked up on that detail. He also, realized she was trying to change the subject. 

"No more straw dogs, Jen. Talk to me." His voice was just above a whisper as he stared out into the night. 

"You're a quick learner." She sighed, recognizing words she had used on him more than once. 

"I had a good teacher. So don't change the subject." He was watching her reflection in the glass. She looked like she was surrounded by stars. 

"I'm having dreams of the last months, since the war began." Her voice cracked. "All the death I've seen and couldn't stop." 

"Why didn't you come to me sooner?" 

"What I've seen. What I've experienced. It's so....." Jen searched for the right words. "It's hard to talk to anyone about it. And you...well it didn't seem fair to bring it to you." 

McQueen had expected her to say almost anything but that_. Jen, always the doctor_! He was angered that she still thought of him as her patient. Would he never get out of detox in her mind? He sat there in the quiet, listening to her breathing. Trying to pull his anger in and letting her words play through his mind a second time. 

"It's so beautiful here. It's hard to imagine that a war is going on out there somewhere." Jenny tried to deflect the anger that was filling the small space between them. 

"You didn't think I would understand?" McQueen wasn't going to let her bury his question in small talk. 

"No!" Jenny turned to him. Her walls frail, but in place enough to withstand his scrutiny in the shadowy corners. "That's not it at all. I was....embarrassed. My problems seem so trivial. You've been through so much more." 

"Oh, Jen, no. Never that. What you went through was the worst for you. I hope you never have to go through anything more. There is no need to be embarrassed." McQueen looked deep into Jenny's face, but saw only shadows. "Once when I needed it badly, you shared your sky and stars with me. Do you know when I'm talking about?" 

"I remember. That first trip to Catalina." Her voice crackled with tears she was fighting to keep locked in her throat. 

"Some people say that in-vitros don't have souls, but if we do, that trip saved mine." He wished he could see Jen's face. See what she was really thinking. He could tell she was hurting, but he didn't know how to make it go away. Amy had always said he didn't have a clue how to give comfort. She was right about that. Up until now, it hadn't really mattered. 

"I never knew?" She looked up, her hand in a tight fist against his arm to keep from reaching out for him. "I never knew it meant that much to you." 

"It did. I had hit bottom and you showed me freedom. Not just freedom to leave the clinic, but a freedom of spirit that I had only experienced when I flew." McQueen looked over Jen's head at the stars out the window, letting them replenish him. "You see, I always knew that someday I wouldn't be able to fly any longer. I didn't expect it to happen so soon, in fact, I hoped I would go down with my Hammer. But the fear of something like this happening ate at me. You gave me the means to overcome that and much more. I've always wondered how you knew what I needed." 

"I looked in your eyes and saw the same thing that I see when I look in my mirror sometimes." Jenny shrugged. "You need to touch the stars, Ty. I need to step into the wind. Those are the things that sustain us. From the deck of my boat you were able to look up and find stars to touch." 

"The Doctor has a soul of a poet. Who would have guessed?" He should have known, she was so perfect in so many ways, why not that as well. "Well Doctor-poet, I can't give you the wind and the sea that you crave, but," he pointed out the window to nothing but stars. "You've got that anytime you want it." 

See beginning of chapter for disclaimer   
................................ 

In-Vitro Health Facility May 2059 (3 1/2 years earlier) 

McQueen had finally left his window and gone to bed, but he tossed and turned before falling into a restless sleep. He woke a few times during the night. Twice he thought Dr. Kirkwood was standing over him as he slept. If they were dreams, he was glad they were peaceful ones. She had starred in too many of the violent ones he had had when withdrawal from the Greens had his mind raging out of control. 

"Major?" Dr. Kirkwood woke him early the next morning. If she had really been in his room during the night, she didn't look it. She was her usual neat self, with her hair in a fancy braid down her back. Lab coat over a soft looking blouse that was tucked into pleated wool slacks. "How are you feeling this morning?" 

"You probably know the answer to that better than I do!" He growled. 

"Ohh, not a morning person, are we?" Jen teased. "Okay, here's the deal, McQueen. I checked with Dr. Werner and he agrees with my assessment. You need to get out of here for a few days. Then it's back to work to get you fit." 

"I get a pass?" McQueen schooled his face to hide all he was feeling. The terrors of detox were fresh in his memory, but he would do anything to get out from behind these walls for a while. 

"Well, a conditional pass. It's really more of a supervised outing. And I'm the supervisor," Jen pointed to herself. "I'll pick you up around 1400 hours. Pack a bag for four days. I have to have you back by lights out on Sunday night." 

"Where are we going?" McQueen asked as Jen headed for the door. 

"It's a surprise, but don't worry. Your reputations is safe," she laughed as she talked. "The woman who raised me will be there." Jen made it as far as the door before turning back to the scowling man in the bed, "by the way, dress in layers. You'll need it." 

Eight hours later they were maneuvering out of the harbor at Newport Beach, in Jenny's 36-foot sailboat, Windswept. She waited until they cleared the outer marker buoy. Then she cut the motor and talked McQueen through raising the sails. 

"Ever been sailing before, McQueen?" Jenny tugged the bill of her scruffy old, UCLA Sailing Team hat lower on her forehead and pulled her ponytail out of the opening in the back. McQueen settled on the seat beside her in the aft section of the boat, where the helm was located. 

"No," he looked over at the gleaming wood deck and polished brass fittings. "She's a beautiful craft." 

"Thanks, she's an old lady of the sea. The man I bought her from told me she was built in the 1920's. Her original owner used her to run rum up from Jamaica during Prohibition." 

The thunder of heavy guns could be heard to the south of their position. McQueen jumped to his feet, tense, ready to throw Jenny to the deck. His hand moved toward his right pocket, where his knife would have been if he weren't in detox. 

"It's okay!" Jenny reached out a hand to him, "it's the Marines on Camp Pendleton. There're a number of islands owned by them in this area. They often use them for war games. You can hear the guns when the wind is blowing in the right direction, but only for a few more miles." She watched as he forced himself to relax. "Sorry, I should have mentioned it." 

"Are we going to launch an attack on Pendleton?" McQueen grunted, his arms crossed over his chest and legs splayed. The Greens had robbed him of his iron control. It had caught him by surprise that it wasn't back yet. He had learned early, jumping at strange noises could get him killed. 

"No, not today." Jenny laughed, remembering a childhood incident that had gotten her grounded for months. "We're going to Catalina for the next few days. And before you make a face like that, no we aren't going to play tourist. I grew up there. My home is above Catalina Harbor on the Pacific side of Two Harbors. At the Isthmus end of the Island." 

McQueen's eyes ran over the sails and churning water. It felt good to have the wind and sun on his face. The quiet speed of the sailboat was like a different kind of flying: soothing. He felt his muscles relax. "This seems familiar and.....better." 

"I had hoped it would. I can't give you your sky and stars," Jen pointed upward. "So I thought I'd share mine with you." She watched the compass and the sails as she talked. Her hands sure and steady on the small wheel, as she was careful to give McQueen time to digest her words. 

The man was stunned at the gift she had given him. He stood there, his body swaying, as they moved through the water. Trying not to watch the woman whose casual words could reach in and touch a piece of his core. 

"There's a thermos of coffee in the galley, if you want to get it before you sit back down." Jen motioned toward the open hatch with her chin. "I think you're ready for a bit of caffeine to be reintroduced into your diet. Though if you prefer, I'm sure there's some herbal tea down there, somewhere." 

"Hump," McQueen grunted as he watched the grin spread across her face. "I'm sick and tired of that tea you've been serving me." He was glad for the excuse to go below. The artillery fire had caught him by surprise and he didn't like it that it had. Getting his control back had moved to number one on his list of priorities. 

Minutes later the Major was back with two cups of coffee. "Here you go, Doctor." 

"Thanks," she looked at him from under the brim of her hat as she sipped from her cup before placing it in a holder by the wheel. "We could spend the weekend stumbling over ranks and titles. Would you find it disrespectful if we were on a first name basis for the next few days?" 

It was seldom that anyone worried about his feelings. "No, I guess that would be all right, Jenny....Jen?" It felt awkward to call her anything other than doctor, but after all she had done for him, he wasn't going to be surly. 

"Okay," she smiled at him. "Okay....Ty? Is that all right?" She asked tentatively. 

He shook his head in the affirmative, a half smile on his lips. The only other person who had ever called him that was Glen Ross. Even Amy, his ex-wife, had called him TC. It had always made him feel impersonal, distant, lacking in a name. He realized that he had begun thinking of himself in that manner, as well. 

"You want to try this?" Jen indicated the wheel. 

McQueen looked at the smooth wood in her hands. It was about the same size as the controls on his Hammerhead, though it was round instead of the broken oval he was used to. His fingers itched to try it. 

"It's okay," Jen said softly. She saw the longing in his eyes. "Slide closer, and put your hands over mine until you get the feel of the way this moves. Keep your eyes on the bow of the boat. Line it up with the compass heading." His arm went around her as he reached for the wheel. "This will probably feel sluggish after a Hammerhead, so no sudden movement."   
  
She felt his hands cover hers and heard him take a deep breath. _Yes this is what he_ _needed._ _He was like a caged panther in that room last night_. Looking up she saw pure ecstasy cross his face and realized how close they were sitting. _Not a good idea Jenny, this one is different. _

"Let's switch places with our hands," Jen ducked down under his arm, so he no longer surrounded her. Kneeling in front of the wheel and compass box, she reached across to place her hands over his as she talked. "That's it. Can you feel the sea moving?" 

"It's like I've done this before, but in a dream," McQueen felt free for the first time in weeks. Though, there was something familiar about all this. 

"That may be my fault." Jen looked sheepish. "During your worst night in detox, the sound of my voice seemed to keep you calm. I recited every sea poem I know, then started on sailing in general. I wouldn't be surprised if you could sail this strip of ocean from memory." 

"You were in that room with me?" Jen could feel his hands tighten on the wheel beneath hers. "That wasn't another of the nightmares?" 

"Easy Ty, the Windswept likes a light touch," she could feel him force his hands to relax beneath hers as he glared into her eyes. 

"Then those," McQueen looked at the bruises on her arms, peeking out from the sleeves of her t-shirt. "I did them?" He remembered what had happened that night. It hadn't been a nightmare, he had really tried to hurt her.   
  
"Keep your eyes on the compass and the bow of the boat," Jen ordered. 

"Damn it, Jen! I could have killed you," he spat. "What were you thinking being alone in that room with me?" 

"I was thinking that you were going to tear yourself apart if we didn't get those restraints off of you," Jen's voice rose. "For that I owe you an apology. You didn't come out of it unmarked, either." Her left brow rose as she indicated the bruises on his wrists. "It never should have happened." 

"Doctor, do you know what I could have done to you?" McQueen was horrified when he remembered slamming her against the wall. His voice getting lower and quieter as his anger grew. 

"Answer me this, Ty." She looked him straight in the eyes. Her hands still gripped his on the wheel. "could you kill me right now?" 

"That's differ..." 

"Answer my question." She spoke each word as if it stood alone. "Do you or do you not have the ability to kill me as we sit?" 

"Of course I do. But I never would..." 

"I know you never would." She held up her hand as he was about to interrupt her. Her body swayed gently as the boat moved over swells. "That's just the point, Ty. You never would! Lesson number one of phyllophetamine addiction: it doesn't change the basic character of a person. It often brings out a darker side, but....." 

"What basis did you use to risk your life with my 'darker side'?" McQueen was furious. 

"I'd read your service record. That says a lot about a man." Jen's temper was raising right along with his. "I had been working with you for three days before that night. I knew you pretty well by then. Besides, there was a guard outside the door at all times." She didn't tell him about the ketamine hypospray, deciding it would only weaken her argument. Jenny didn't know why she had believed in him that night. All she knew was that she had. She doubted that argument would strengthen her case. 

"What if you'd been wrong. You're a petite woman, Jen. You would have been dead before the guard keyed in the code, if I had wanted you dead." 

"My point precisely, you didn't want me dead." Jen slipped back behind the wheel taking control of the boat. "And my size is an advantage in these situations." McQueen looked at her as if she had lost her mind. "There was a time when you had a choice to attack either my Corpsman, who is 6' 2", or me. You went for him." 

"That's supposed to make me feel better?" His hands low on his hips. He stood, leaning over her, using his size to press his advantage; his eyes cold and distant. 

"Yes, it proves my point," she shot back, not intimidated by his stance. "You would never hurt anyone smaller or weaker than you. Besides, he deserved the scare. He was the one who strapped you down," McQueen could hear the venom in Jen's voice. "Lesson number two of phyllophetamine addiction: it slows the reflexes as it binds with oxygen receptors. You never laid a hand on him." 

"No, but I did you." McQueen reached for her arm, but pulled back before he could touch her. "I'm sorry." 

"Apology accepted, if you accept mine?" She held out her hand to him. "Pax?" 

He shook her hand, "Pax. But I still don't like what happened." 

"Neither do I!" Jenny and McQueen knew they were talking about different things. Both decided to ignore it. "Do you want to try sailing the old girl again?" Jen invited. "You looked like you were getting the knack." 

McQueen felt his soul brushed clean as they sailed toward the hazy smug on the horizon that grew into an island. It wasn't flying a Hammerhead, but riding the back of the wind had a lot to be said for itself. With the wheel in his hands, as the sun set and stars came out he felt new again. Jen sat by his side watching and giving a hand where needed, but for the first time in a long time, McQueen felt in control of something. 

Hours went by as they sailed in companionable silence, Jenny keeping them on course with a gentle word. McQueen letting the experience wash over him. He had to give her credit, Dr. Jennifer Kirkwood had him pegged. This was what he had needed. He was feeling a connection with a part of himself he hadn't felt in a long time, if ever. 

Looking back he realized that during the early days of his marriage, he had lost himself along the way. His control over his personal life had slipped further and further out of his grasp, until the only time he felt in control was when he was in a cockpit. The disaster his marriage had become was a given after that. Then he had even lost the cockpit by going back to the Greens. No wonder he had thought about putting a bullet through his head. 

"I'm going to radio our position, so Patsy will know when to expect us, but I'll be right here if you need me." Jenny broke the silence between them. "Come in Cliff house. This is Windswept calling." 

"Windswept, this is Cliffhouse. How're you doing kiddo?" 

"We're doing great. Had a following wind all the way. We rounded the Isthmus not long ago. We should be docking in about 45 minutes. I hope you have something hot for us to eat. Ever since the sun went down, it's been cold out here. Windswept, over." 

McQueen heard a woman's bright laughter over the radio. "Jenny, you say that every time." The silver toned laugh came again. "Dinner's on the stove and there is a fire in the fireplace. See you two soon. I've got the lights on at the slip, but I'll be waiting at the house. Cliffhouse over." 

Jenny looked at the radio transmitter in her hand, wanting to ask more questions, but decided now wasn't the time or place. 

"You okay?" McQueen had caught her worried look. He hadn't missed the affection between the women as they had talked, so he couldn't understand why Jen was bothered. 

"Patsy usually comes to the dock when I've been away, but even with steps, it's steep. She only stays away when her leg is giving her trouble. Her knee was crushed in an accident while helping to build The James Lovell Orbital Assembly Facility. I've told her we can completely replace the joint. The surgery would leave her pain free and give her back the mobility she lost, but she just won't do it." Jen shook her head, dismissing the accident and focusing on the cure. 

"Hold it a second," McQueen frowned. "The woman who raised you helped build the Lovell?" McQueen was beginning to see the pieces of the puzzle that was Jen fall into place. "Most of the labor for that was done by in-vitros, working off their indentured servitude." 

"Yes, Pats was about 1 1/2 when it happened." Jenny had taken over the wheel for the entrance to Catalina Harbor. "That's why she was in Sickbay when my mother went into early labor. My father and mother were spending time on the Lovell working on his research project." 

"You're telling me that a natural-born was raised by an in-vitro? What about your father?" McQueen didn't know if he was more startled by the casually affectionate way Jen talked about Patsy, or the apparent lack of a father in her upbringing. 

"I've heard it said dad had two loves, his work and his wife." Jen was concentrating on her sailing, and spoke more freely than she normally would have. "When mother died giving birth to me, he bought out Patsy's contract from Aerotech and moved the two of us to Catalina Island." 

"Where was he?" McQueen had always wanted to be a father. The idea of a parent not raising his own child was unbelievable to him. 

"He moved back and forth between the Lovell Facility and Berkeley where he taught courses on the impact of space phenomenon on particle physics." Jen used the gears at the helm to lower the sails, then started the motor for the last few miles to the dock. She had forgotten about McQueen, as she sailed her boat as she usually did: all by herself. "He would make a flying trip to the Island to check up on us about twice a year." 

"Your father was Harrison Kirkwood? The man who won the Nobel Prize for the discovery of the Black Hole Inversion Phenomenon?" McQueen watched her work, independent, capable, and alone. Something about it felt familiar, but he couldn't place it. 

"One and the same," Jen shook her head as she squinted into the distance. "See that light to the left beyond that point? That's where the Windswept lives. The house on the bluff above is where we're headed.   
................................... 

Catalina Island Spring 2059 

That night McQueen met Patsy Howard. An in-vitro, like none he had experienced before. She was tall with chestnut hair streaked with gray. The lines around her dark brown eyes and mouth were laugh lines, instead of the usual worry lines present in most in-vitro faces. If he had to guess, he would bet that she had been produced to be a soldier. She had the tall long bones and finely chiseled features that spoke of warriors. Her neck-navel peeking out from her fashionably cut short hair and stiff right leg were the only clues that she was one of his kind. 

They had eaten dinner in a many-windowed kitchen that was Patsy's obvious domain. It was warm and cheery and the two women chatted away, including him in the conversation. A small black cat, named Cinders was curled-up, asleep, under Jenny's chair. 

"So Major, does Jenny still drive that blue bomb of hers as if she owned the L.A. freeways?" Patsy grinned at Jenny, whose eyebrows had risen. 

"I kept checking the dashboard for a LIDAR display to warn for in- comings," McQueen picked up the teasing tone of Patsy's voice and joined in. "It was definitely 'fangs-out' all the way from L.A. to Newport Beach." 

"I know when I've been insulted." Jen stood, fists on her hips. "I think I'll take the last two slices of this pie, across the lawn, to Lars and Magda. And I'll have you know, there is nothing wrong with my driving!" Jen left in mock insult. 

"Lars and Magda were the housekeeper and groundskeeper when we were growing up," Patsy explained. "They live in the gatehouse at the foot of the lot. Lars keeps that boat of Jenny's ship shape." Patsy grinned at her pun. "And Magda is my bridge partner." 

"You grew-up here?" McQueen was struck by the incongruity of the statement. In-vitros didn't grow up, they were born as adults. 

"When I was born, my body may have looked like an adult's, but my mind and emotions weren't. You remember what it's like when they take you out of the tank?" 

"That's not something I'm likely to forget," McQueen repressed a shudder. Being born at 18 years old was a disadvantage. You remember every sensation and they were all unpleasant. You're wet, cold and confused. Strong feelings that no one had taught you to control, surged through your body. Then you were taught that your only purpose in life is to obey and then to die. Why bother to live, at all? 

"I can see from your eyes that you remember it, vividly," Patsy looked guilty. "Sorry about that, Jenny would have my hide if she knew. This is supposed to be a pleasant few days for you." 

Schooling his face, McQueen turned to Patsy. "You're secret is safe with me." 

"This place, that woman, a bit overwhelming, aren't they?" Patsy smiled at McQueen as she sipped her tea. "Though Jenny and I have been together since she was born. Believe me, for an 18 month old in-vitro, that was the definition of overwhelming," Patsy laughed. 

"Overwhelming?" McQueen wasn't used to being talked to as Patsy was doing. He wondered if it was the effect of the Greens, or if there was kinship between Jenny and Patsy that gave them the ability to blind-side him. _Always know who wants what from_ _you,_ he thought, still working the problem in his mind. 

"Remember I've been there too, Ty. Is it all right if I call you that, like Jenny does? Or would you prefer Major?" Patsy got up and refilled his coffee cup. "It was a long time ago, but I still remember." 

"Ty is fine, and thanks for the coffee." He watched the stiff movement of her right leg and it sunk in that she really did understand. "That's why you won't let Jen fix your knee, isn't it?" 

"Yes," Patsy turned around in surprise. It was obvious Jenny had told this man about the accident on the Lovell, and he understood how Patsy felt about it. "But can we keep it between ourselves? Jenny understands on an intellectual level, but her emotions, well..." Patsy shrugged her shoulders. "Let's hope she never has to find out for herself." 

For a moment Patsy's eyes darkened and McQueen knew she was seeing into the distant past. The two in-vitros exchanged a knowing look that spoke of badges of courage and a tribute to those who hadn't been as lucky as they had. 

"Have you and Jen always lived on Catalina?" McQueen wondered what it was that made Patsy so different from the other in-vitros he had met. 

"Jenny was born on The Lovell. The Professor was doing a research project there. I've never understood why he had his wife, Emma, with him. But because of that, my life was changed," Patsy shrugged. "Jenny told you about this didn't she?" 

"A little bit, but what I'd really like to know is what it was like for you." McQueen's eyes met Patsy's in a look of complete understanding, one in-vitro to another. Each seeing, in the other, what their life could have been. 

"I had been on the Lovell for five months, when I was in an accident on one of the construction sites. My knee was crushed. The doctor did what he could for me, but I'm an in-vitro, and our Sickbay was rather primitive." Patsy could see that McQueen understood. "Afterward, I was petrified that they would send me to one of the pleasure palaces," Patsy confided, ignoring the ghosts that haunted McQueen's face. "It was a given that I wouldn't be doing heavy labor again," she pointed to her damaged knee. 

"I was working in Sickbay while they were trying to figure out what to do with me, when Emma Kirkwood was brought in. She was in an advanced stage of labor and bleeding badly. The Professor refused to leave her side, even when the doctor ordered him out. 

"They handed the baby to me as soon as she was born. The doctor was too busy trying to save Emma's life, to deal with the living. But it wasn't to be. Emma died an hour later. Jenny was left in my care for the next three days. I didn't have a clue what to do, but I figured it out fast enough." Patsy could only shake her head as she remembered fumbling with the tiny girl-child that would change her life. 

"The next thing I knew I had agreed to help the Professor with the child, if he bought out my indentured servitude. I found myself on a shuttle to Earth before the ink could dry on the papers." Patsy gave McQueen a knowing smile. "My plans at the time, had been to get back to Earth then run off somewhere, that all changed the night before we landed. It was late, I had just fed Jenny and was rocking her to sleep. She felt warm and good against me. I looked down and that tiny baby opened her eyes and smiled at me. It was as if she looked deep into me and tugged at my heart. I've been with her ever since. 

"I get the feeling you didn't think much of Professor Kirkwood?" McQueen had been listening to what Patsy hadn't said, as much as to what she had. 

Patsy stood to get herself another cup of tea, using the time to think. "Exactly how much has Jenny told you?" 

"Not much really. She mentioned growing up here, and you of course. She did say that her father had provided a home for the two of you. I think she was too busy keeping an eye on me, making sure I didn't capsize her boat, to do much talking." That wasn't quite the truth, but it would do. 

"Jenny let you sail her boat?" Patsy was caught off guard. Not only had Jenny talked to this stranger about her childhood, but she had let him sail her beloved Windswept. No one but Jen ever sailed that boat. This man's presence in her kitchen took on a new meaning. Patsy wasn't sure how she felt about it.   
  
"Most in-vitros think we have it pretty rough, because we don't have parents; no one to love us and guide us as we mature. But having a parent isn't all it's cracked up to be, if it's the wrong kind of parent." Patsy looked McQueen straight in the eyes. Jenny seemed to trust him. The older woman was going to see if he was worth that trust. 

"There are parents that don't love their natural born child. They don't care about her as a person. They may blame the child for the death of someone they loved deeply. Blame her to the point of blocking out any feelings or paternal caring." Patsy's anger was boiling over. "Yes, you could say I didn't think much of Harrison Kirkwood. May his soul never find peace in hell!" 

"He felt that way about Jen?" 

The anger that was present on McQueen's face was gratifying to Patsy. _Maybe this man wasn't so bad after all? _

"He provided for her material needs. She had a home, a very good education, and he made sure I was here." Patsy laughter bitterly, "but even that, was for his own convenience. He knew nothing about me, except I was an injured in-vitro. I needed a place to go when he happened to need someone to care for his child. For all he knew I could have been an ax murderer. The Professor planted his daughter here with strangers and took off. He visited about twice a year, to make sure she was progressing as the daughter of Harrison Kirkwood should, but that was it. 

"I'm only 18 months older than Jenny in real years," Patsy smiled as she remembered the good times. "I was savvy enough to keep us from dying young, but just barely. We terrorized this end of the island for a while. Thank goodness for understanding neighbors, and Magda and Lars!" She shook her head as she thought of the foolishness of Jenny's father.   
  
The kitchen door rattled and Jenny came in with a gust of wind and rain at her heels. "I thought I was gone long enough for the dishes to get done?" 

"No such luck, my girl. I cooked. You clean up. House rules still stand." Patsy grinned as she picked up the small black cat that had begun complaining because Jenny's noisy entrance had disturbed its nap. 

After Jenny and McQueen had headed to their respective rooms for the night, Patsy sat in the living room, watching the dying coals in the fireplace. Her tea left to grow cold on the table beside her. _"What's going on in that head of yours, Jenny?"_ Something wasn't right here, McQueen sailing the Windswept, Jenny bringing him here, and telling him about her childhood. 

Patsy remembered the summer when Jenny was 11 and the two of them had decided to check out San Clemente Island. They had known that the Marines used it for war games, but had decided it would be fun to play Marine for the day. They had ended up as 'guests' of the Marines for a number of hours. Harrison Kirkwood had been summoned from Berkeley. When he had finally secured their release, they had each received a severe dressing-down and were grounded for the rest of the summer. It had broken Jenny's heart to spend three months on dry land. That was when Jenny swore, that one day, she would have a boat that no one could take away from her. The Windswept was that boat. 

Patsy didn't know what threats Harrison had used to keep Jenny in line, but they must have been something drastic, because she finally gave up trying to gain her father's approval. Though the habits she'd formed over the years were so ingrained, that Jen was still the classic overachiever. Graduating from high school at 15, UCLA at 17 1/2, and UCLA Medical School at 21. It had been a relief to Patsy when Harrison had died in Jenny's last year in medical school. It was one less graduation the Professor didn't attend because he was 'too busy.' 

Patsy had watched Jenny carefully construct a wall to keep the small hurts the Professor aimed at his daughter from hitting their mark. Over the years that wall had extended to include men in general. Now suddenly, Jenny shows up with a man in tow. _Why this_ _man? Why out of all the men in the world, did Jenny choose him to open-up to?_ She had plenty of men friends, but she kept them at arms length. Anytime a man tried to get too close, Jenny would jump back behind her wall. 

Patsy was sure, that Jenny was blind to the significance of McQueen's presence in their home. He was Jenny's patient and that was all there was to it. The doctor in Jenny would stay in command of the woman. Unfortunately, the woman behind the doctor was peeking out. And she was a woman who didn't trust men easily. _Why him, an in-vitro who looks to have had a rough time of it?_  
  
The next morning, McQueen came down to find Jenny working in a study off the living room. She was seated at a large desk, her back to one of the many bookshelves that lined the walls of the room. There was a stack of wood, in the fireplace opposite the desk, waiting to be lit. The small cat that followed Jenny around was daintily licking her paws in the sun that beamed through one of the floor to ceiling windows at either end of the room. Like all the rooms McQueen had seen so far, this one, had a comfortable lived-in look. The chairs and small couch were placed in a way that invited people to sit and read. 

"Good-morning," McQueen called out. Jenny had been lost in whatever she had been writing and didn't hear him enter the room. 

"Hi there, how did you sleep?" She looked up, her mind making the transition from her writing to her patient. 

"Fine, great," he looked a bit sheepish. "I haven't slept like that in a long time." 

"Good, I like to hear things like that," Jenny stretched in her chair. 

"What are you working on?" McQueen wondered what could have Jen so absorbed. "Is it a Navy secret and if you tell me, you would have to shoot me?" 

"Pleeaassee!" Jen rolled her eyes. "That's a Marine thing. The Navy is too honorable to shoot you. We would send you swimming with hungry sharks." She kidded as she decided if she would show him what she was writing. No one but Patsy and the agent from the publisher knew about the book. "Have a seat," Jenny indicated the chair on the other side of the desk, as she handed over a stack of paper, her decision made. "This is only the first two chapters. Let me know what you think." 

McQueen's eyes began scanning the first page: _'In 1978, in England, Dr. Edwards, an embryologist, and his research partner Dr. Steptue, a gynecologist, succeeded in the first In-Vitro Fertilization. This break-through allowed thousands of couples that had been considered, until that time, infertile to conceive a child. By the year 1999, more than 20,000 IVF babies were born worldwide.   
  
This step in the fight over infertility was looked upon as a gift, greeted with great joy by thousands of couples that couldn't conceive through 'natural' means.   
  
After the first few babies were born via IVF, as it was called then, no one looked askew at the practice. How a child was conceived, wasn't important. There was no prejudice or glory. There was just a child.' _

McQueen looked up, his eyes blue ice, "are you writing what I think you're writing?" 

"I have no idea. What is it you think I'm writing?" Jenny stood, leaning across her desk at the angry man. 

"It's a history of in-vitros!" He stood and moved around the desk, as he tossed the pages on the chair he had been sitting in. 

"You've got it in one, Major," Jen met his anger with her own. "It's about time people learned the truth." 

"And what truth is that?" McQueen stood nose to nose with the woman who had made his insides jump with fear. If the book ever saw the light of day, it would bring a firestorm of hate down on her head. 

"The truth that a precious gift was bastardized along the way for in-utero born's convenience." She was hurt that McQueen didn't understand. _Way to go, Jenny. And Patsy wonders why I have trouble trusting men, when they all let me down. _

"What are you trying to do?" McQueen ground out, "paint a big red bull's-eye on your back for every bigoted son-of-a-bitch to take aim at, Lieutenant?" 

"Don't be ridiculous, and don't try to pull rank on me, Major. You're still my patient!" Jenny was flushed with anger. "Did you know that the first in-vitro gestation, in 2025, was only nine months long? There is no need to extent it to..." 

"That's not the point..." 

"Yes it is...." 

"Jennifer! I can hear the shouting from the garden," Patsy walked in to the study. Jenny and McQueen were nose to nose. He was leaning over the smaller woman in an attempt to intimidate her, but it didn't seem to be working. "I can see that she's decided to show you her book?" 

"Patsy, please I already know your opinion." Jenny didn't shout, but her voice was strained. 

"You're letting her write this?" McQueen was shocked that the in-vitro woman didn't understand the trouble Jen could be in if this book was ever published. 

"In the kitchen, both of you. Now! And no more fighting or I'll send you to your rooms." Patsy turned and headed to the back of the house. McQueen and Jenny followed. 

It had been useless. McQueen couldn't talk Jenny out of writing the book. He was relieved to find out that Patsy agreed with him, but there was nothing that either in-vitro could do to stop the stubborn natural-born woman. It was a point that they had to agree to disagree on and let it drop. 

"I'm going for a walk. I'll be back in about an hour." Jenny grabbed a mug filled with espresso, as she headed out. Patsy and Ty were left with the echo of the kitchen door as the angry woman banged out of the house, heading toward the cliff and the path to the beach. 

"I'm afraid we disappointed her badly." Patsy met McQueen's eyes, still stormy from the recent argument. "You don't usually come out on the losing end, do you, Ty?" 

"No, I don't," he sighed. "I worry for her safety. She doesn't realize the trouble that book will cause her, if it ever gets published." 

"No, she doesn't," Patsy touched his arm to get his attention. "You see McQueen, she really doesn't see the difference between in-vitro and in-utero born. To her it's just a form of child neglect that in-vitros are born at eighteen. And she considers the in-vitro training schools to be nothing short of child abuse."   
................................   
  
Four weeks later Patsy gave a sigh of relief when Jenny arrived home alone. McQueen had been released form the detox program earlier in the week and was decertified to fly. Though he had proven himself the morning when he had found out about Jenny's book, Patsy was glad there was distance between Jenny and the Marine Major.   
.................................. 

The Saratoga October 2063 

McQueen shook himself. He had let his mind wander back over the trip from Newport Beach to Catalina. It had been the start of many changes in his life. The most important being the ability to kick the Greens with a sure knowledge that he would never touch one again. He felt Jen's head resting on his shoulder and knew she must be asleep. She was always careful to respect his personal space, except when she was coming at him in 'doctor mode.' When that happened, all hell broke lose and short of physical violence, he was never able to keep her at bay. 

"Jen, you need to wake-up." He talked softly as he admired the tousled head resting on his shoulder. It took all his control not to put his arm around her and bury his face in her hair. His eyes moved to her slender neck. The scar only half covered by curls made him stiffen. _NO! Never again_! The words echoed in his head. _Never will their anger at my kind be spilled onto you. _

"Hmmm," Jen looked up at him, smiling, thinking she was dreaming. "Hi there," her voice sounded soft and sexy. 

"Wake-up, Jen," McQueen put ice into his eyes and voice, he needed to put some distance between them before he ruined their friendship and took them back to where they had been before war broke out. 

"Oh, oh sorry," flustered, Jen came instantly awake. "I didn't mean to..." 

"It's okay," he could relax a bit now, that she was no longer leaning against him. "We need to get back, it's very late. You go on ahead, I'll follow in a bit." 

"But..."   
  
"No buts, Doctor," McQueen was back in control. "It's not just the in-vitro issue this time. I am your commanding officer." He knew his argument was a thin one in Jen's case, but he was damned if he was going to go over the same old ground with her. 

She stood to leave. Then turned to him in a huff. "My commander? Sure you are Lt. Col. McQueen, Sir. Until the next time you end up in Sickbay, Sir. Then I'm the one in charge, Sir." Knowing a good exit line when she heard one, she did just that.   
  
She was descending the almost vertical stairs from the alcove when she heard a voice like ground glass. "Payback can be a bitch, so I'll be sure to watch my six." 

_ Damn him!_ She thought as she blinked back a tear. _I can be just as tough as you McQueen!_  
.................................... 

The Saratoga October 2063   
He heard Jenny's footsteps as she pounded down another flight of steps. She was angry. He had chosen his words carefully. Knowing it was easier for him to deal with an angry Jen, than the soft vulnerable woman she had been moments earlier. Hopefully, his parting shot would keep her good and mad for a while. He stood slowly, wondering how this would all work out. 

It was after 0230 when McQueen made it back to his quarters. He felt unsettled. Now was when he would learn how much of his peace of mind it was going to cost him to have helped Jen. He was having trouble keeping his thoughts from the past. 

Reaching under his bunk, he pulled out his footlocker. Moving his hand caressingly over the Angry Angel insignia on the gunmetal gray trunk, he took a deep breath and opened the lid. 

Buried deep under his flight suit was a 5X7 envelope. He reached in and found the photograph inside. He shook his head at the nine people in Angry Angel jackets in the picture. It had been taken three months before they had died. They were all smiling and laughing. Even McQueen had a grin on his face, as he looked down into the face of Jen Kirkwood. He wondered if the casual observer would see the intimacy he saw in the picture.   
  
It was one of the few times Major McQueen had joined them when they had gone out on the town. The Angels had taken Lieutenant Jennifer Kirkwood, M.D. out for her birthday to a hole-in-the-wall Mexican place for tapas and sangria. The picture had been taken after too many pitchers of the red-fruity wine. Collins had danced on the table and had challenged Jenny to do the same. Jen had smiled and suggested the picture, instead. 

"Come on, you too, McQueen." Jen had moved to the end of the table where he was sitting and pulled him to his feet. "I want a picture with all of us wearing our jackets." They had given Jen an Angry Angel jacket and cap for her birthday and she was thrilled. 

"Down off that table, Gloria," Jen called out, her arm still tightly around McQueen. 

"Angel-Doc, how many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?" Collins jumped from the table to join her friend. They all knew that Collins and Jenny had become good friends, but Collins loved to play hard-ass in public. 

With one arm around McQueen and the other around Collins, Jenny was the center of the picture. 

"You're drunk, Jen," McQueen whispered. 

"Look who's talking?" She giggled up at him. That was how the picture was taken, McQueen looking down into Jen's laughing face, his arm around her, holding her snugly against him. Collins pulled close on her other side and everyone laughing, gathered around them. 

Dr. Kirkwood had been assigned to the Angels nine months earlier. The official version was that it was a test program. It was stated that many of the specialized flying groups needed better medical care and since the only thing they wanted to do was fly, most pilots avoided doctors. If a group had it's own doctor, someone they could trust, then the problem would be solved. The Angels had been picked as the test group. At least that was the official story.   
  
McQueen had his own theory on Jen's assignment. He thought, it was another thing the Navy was using to sideline her career. As if sending her to the Moon's training base on the Sea of Serenity, for the previous six months hadn't been enough. He found it interesting that her posting on the Moon coincided with the publishing of her book, The In-Vitro Chronicles. 

No one had expected her to be able to make a go of it with the Angels, but she had. Most of them had tried to freeze her out when she was first assigned to them, but she had worn them down. McQueen could remember the first time Collins and Jen had come to the Asteroid together. Webb had made a pass at Jen in the bar. Collins had tried to take a swing at him to protect her. Jen had stepped between the two. Telling them she had no wish to patch up any bruises again tonight, and thank you very much Collins, but if anyone would take a swing at Webb for that pass, she would do it herself. 

The change in the attitude of the Angels toward Jenny had started the previous night. As always, McQueen was sitting at his place at the bar, while his squadron was partying at their favorite table. That night things had gotten mean and a fight broke out. Fights were nothing new to the Angels, but this one was rougher than most. McQueen made it a habit to stay out of the way when his squad fought. He had learned early on that when an in-vitro joined in a bar fight, it gave some bigoted son-of-a-bitch an excuse to take a swing or two at him, often using more than fists. But tonight his help was needed, so he waded into the foray. 

When they staggered out of the Asteroid, they were bruised and bleeding, but victorious. McQueen had a cut on his head thanks to a bottle someone had used to slow him down. 

"Guys," Collins snickered. "They gave us a doctor to 'take care' of us. Why don't we pay her a visit? If we go to the infirmary, they'll tip the MP's for sure." 

"Way to go Collins!" Webb grinned as he swayed on his feet as much from beer as the punches he had taken. 

McQueen wanted no part of what the others were planning so he headed home alone. He wondered if he should call Jen and let her know that she was about to be descended on by six drunk and beaten-up Angels. But decided against it. If he called, it might tip his hand and he didn't want her to know he had been in on the fight. 

An hour after he had gotten home someone was beating on his door. "Go away!" He called out. His head was pounding and he had a cold cloth pressed against it trying to stop the bleeding. 

"Open up, McQueen!" Jen called out. "Now!" 

When he didn't answer her, Jen pounded harder "You have two choices, McQueen. Let me in to check you over, or I'll have two MP's 'escort' you to the infirmary. If you make me go to all that trouble, I may just forget to use Lidocaine if stitches are required on that thick head of yours. Now, open up, damn it!" 

"Oohh such language," McQueen swung open the door, realizing that she wasn't going away. "I don't need a doctor." He blocked her way, hoping she would give up. 

"Let me be the judge. That's why I get the big bucks and the juicy assignments," Jen pushed against his chest to move him into the room. 

"Lieutenant, I said I was fine." McQueen tried pulling rank.   
  
"Well it doesn't look like it from here." Jen had grabbed his chin and turned his head to the left so she could get a better look at his right temple. "Why don't you sit down before you fall down?" She headed him toward a table and chair where he had been sitting. There was a bowl of ice water and a bottle of scotch on the table. 

"I really am okay, Jen." His voice softened as she pushed his hair back. "I've had worse and taken care of it myself." 

"You shouldn't have to," she sighed. "It's going to take at least five stitches to close that wound." The Doctor dug in her gear bag for what she was going to need. 

"Thanks, Jen." McQueen wanted badly to touch her, not sure why. 

"I thought you told me once that you didn't join in bar fights, for just this reason." Jen concentrated on injecting the Lidocaine. McQueen concentrated on not wincing. 

"I usually don't, but the Angels were getting their tails waxed. I couldn't just sit there and let that happen." McQueen shrugged his shoulders. "How did you know I had been in on it?" 

"Webb was giving me a play-by-play of the fight, as I patched up Collins and he mentioned that someone got you with a bottle." Jen's anger was on the boil again as she carefully sutured. "Marines! You're all a bunch of macho jerks! I had you pegged for someone with some sense, Ty?" 

"What can I say? It goes with the uniform." 

"There you go. It's going to leave a small scar, but I don't think it'll ruin that pretty face of yours." Bending down in front of the seated man she reached for his rib carriage. "Sit up straight, please." She ran her hands up and down, checking for broken or bruised ribs. 

"You know, Jen," McQueen's voice came out a husky growl. "You should warn a man before you do a thing like that." 

Jenny froze, her hands on McQueen's sides. She couldn't take her eyes away from his. She wasn't even sure she was breathing. "I...a...I..I was just checking to see..." 

"I know that." McQueen took one of her wrists in each of his hands and removed them from his sides. He pulled her to her feet, as he stood. He didn't think she realized he was still holding on to her, or that his thumbs were making gentle circles on the soft inner skin of her wrists. "Just remember what you said earlier. Marines can be macho jerks." 

"I...a..a don't suppose there's any sense in doing a neuro check, with all the booze you've got on board....." Jenny's voice trailed away as she stumbled over the words. They were standing much too close and Ty was still holding her hands. The smoldering blue of his eyes had her caught like a moth to a flame. 

"No, I don't suppose," the Major whispered. He could feel her breath on his face and smell the soft rose fragrance that always said 'Jen' to him. McQueen saw realization hit her as she turned stark white then flushed. They stepped back at the same time. 

"I think that should take care of it. Lay off the booze for at least the next 24 hours." Jenny babbled as she gathered up her gear. _I've got to get out of here before I make an even bigger fool of myself than I already have!_  The words tumbled in her mind as she grabbed her things, afraid to look him in the eyes again. 

She made it out the door before her hands began to shake. _What have I done_? _He's my_ _patient and I almost kissed him. Hold it Jen, get a grip. He's no longer in detox. Things are different now._ The battle raged in her head as she tried to control the emotional wave she was riding. When she had worked with Ty before, her emotions had been under complete control. Or had they? Even as her patient in detox, she had trusted him, when trust wasn't something she gave easily. Now she understood Patsy's dark looks whenever his name was mentioned. 

McQueen had seen the shocked expression on Jen's face, when she realized he was about to kiss her. He thanked the powers that be that he had gained control over himself in that final second. Poor Jen, she was just being the thorough doctor that she always was. She had no way of knowing that when she had touched him tonight, it had awakened something in him. If that kiss had started, there was no way he would have been able to stop there. He slammed his eyes shut to keep from picturing them on the floor, a tangle of limbs. "Control, McQueen!" He muttered through gritted teeth. 

He remembered in detox that he had found her attractive. But had assumed it was because he had been too long without Amy. Jen wasn't the kind of woman that he usually desired. Tiny, Jen, too slim, with big gray eyes and freckles on her nose. No, Amy had been the epitome of his desires: tall, blue-eyed, and very blond with ripe luscious curves, the kinds that filled a man's hands to overflowing. It had been a long time since he thought of Amy as fire and sex. Grunting, he knew those were just one of the things she had used to bind him to her. Not that he had fought it! It was a relief to let that part of his life go. 

Tonight, all he had wanted was to touch Jen and feel her under him. Gentle Jen, all sweetness and light. When had he begun to feel this way? Moving to his dresser he opened a small box that had been in among his shirts for almost 2 years. The light danced on the slim gold rope bracelet that he had bought in Newport Beach after he left detox. 

When he and Jen had returned from Catalina, she had seen the bracelet in the window of a closed jewelry shop. He had gone back and bought it for her, but had never had the nerve to give it to her. Running a finger over the fine rope, he realized he hadn't sent it because it reminded him of Jen. He remembered thinking when he bought it, that it looked like a miniature version of one of the lines on the Windswept, one that had been captured in white and yellow gold. 

The next day, Jenny went into town to shop. Christmas was just around the corner and she decided shop-therapy was just what she needed. She was tired of worrying about feelings that were surfacing for McQueen. She would handle things as they came. That was the day she ran into Gloria Collins at a shoe sale at Nieman's, one of the more fashionable department stores in the area. 

Collins was about to go to battle with another woman over stylish black sling-back evening shoes, from the sale rack. Jenny jumped in and distracted the other woman with a pair of green pumps, giving Collins a grin, as the tall Angel walked off with the prize. 

"Kirkwood, between last night and this morning, you're proving your worth." Collins waved the purchased shoes at the smaller woman. 

"Thank you, Gloria." Jen snickered as she watched Collins rock back on her heels at the casual use of her first name. 

The two ended up spending the day scouring the stores for good buys. By the time they returned to base, a friendship had been formed. That night when Collins showed up at the Asteroid, Jenny was with her. No one ever questioned Jenny's place in the group again. 

A few nights later, as the Angels were sitting in the Bar tossing around ideas about the Christmas holidays, Jenny realized this was a perfect chance to mend her fences with McQueen. He had been a bit standoffish since she had almost kissed him, and she could hardly blame him. 

"Major?" Jen moved to the bar where he was sitting alone. "May I join you?" 

"Have a seat." He motioned to the empty stool next to him. "Can I buy you a drink?" 

"No thanks. When I finish this." She indicated a half empty wine glass. "I'm heading back. I can't keep the hours you guys do." Jen took a sip from her glass, then looked McQueen in the eyes. She was relieved that there was no knee weakening sensation throbbing through her body, just a nice little buzz. Smiling to herself she thought she must have been over-sensitive the other night. 

"I'm going to be sailing to Catalina for Christmas. I'd like you to come along. Patsy and I would like you to join us for the holidays." Jen offered her invitation with a smile. "That is, unless, you have other plans?" 

"No, I was planning on spending the time here, like I always do." He turned on his stool and looked her over from head to toe. There was no gut-wrenching reaction, just a pleasure at seeing her. 

"Come on, Ty, it'll be fun. Besides it'll keep Patsy from driving me crazy. I can sail that boat alone anywhere, anytime, but Pats worries at this time of year, because there are squalls and the seas can run rough. If you come along as crew, she can't give me a hard time." 

"This could be asking for trouble." McQueen's voice was rough and low, not sure Jen understood all the levels he was referring to. 

"Trouble has never frightened me." Her chin shot up and her eyes darkened. 

"That's obvious." McQueen's oblique reference to the publication of Jen's book the year before, was the only comment he had made about it in her hearing. 

"Don't you think two bar fights in three days is pushing it, even for an Angry Angel?" Jen threatened, not missing his meaning. "Besides, I'd only have to patch you up again. I, for one, would rather sail than fight, how about it, McQueen?" 

"Here I thought you were offering me an invitation and all along it was a threat." The sound of McQueen's laughter turned heads at the table of Angels ten feet away. The idea of Jen beating him in a fight was ludicrous. 

Jenny's eyes turned to black in an instant. McQueen remembered them that color the other night in his apartment, though it hadn't been from anger. "It was an invitation. It still is. I just don't want to argue something that can't be changed. The book is out. Yes, you were right. It did cause me trouble. Is that what you wanted to hear?" 

"I'd never wish you any trouble." McQueen sighed realizing he had hurt her feelings by laughing. "But going with you for the holiday, could do just that." 

"I'll consider myself warned. Pax?" She held out her hand to him as she had done once before. 

"Pax." He shook her hand. Not sure if either of them were aware of what they had just agreed to. "I'd like to spend the time with you and Patsy." 

"Good. The transport leaves for L.A. on December 22 at 0600." Jen put down her wine glass and left the Asteroid Bar.   
  
The Christmas trip to Catalina was different from the trip two years ago. There were heavy winds and the sea ran high. The wheel bucked and kicked in McQueen's hands as they fought their way to Catalina. Both of them enjoyed it greatly. By the time they reached their destination they were tired, wet and cold. But had had the time of their lives. McQueen's eyes were alive from the battle with the sea. Jen could see it in him and gave him a knowing smile.   
........................... 

The Saratoga, McQueen's quarters 2063 

Sighing, McQueen pulled a slim volume of illustrated poetry from his footlocker. Jen had given it to him that Christmas morning. He read quietly for a minute, letting the words fill him: 

"Sea-Fever" by John Masefield 

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,   
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,   
And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,   
And a gray mist on the sea's face and the gray dawn breaking. 

I must go down to the seas again for the call of the running tide   
Is a wild call and a clear call, that may not be denied,   
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,   
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying. 

I must go down to the seas again to the vagrant gypsy life,   
To the gull's way and the whale's way where the wind's   
like a whetted knife,   
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,   
And a quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over. 

He could remember being glad that he had bothered to wrap the slim box with the bracelet and put it under her tree. The giving and receiving of gifts was foreign to him, but he had wanted to give Jen something that Christmas. She had been wearing the gold rope when he opened his gift. He had been smart enough, to have enclosed a note with the bracelet, telling her that when she wore it, she would always have a piece of the Windswept with her. Making the gift as much from the boat as from him. 

In the back of the book of poetry, he found another picture. One he thought he had lost. Patsy had taken it of McQueen and Jen sitting on the Windswept, with his arms lightly around her, as her hands covering his on the wheel. They were looking into the camera and laughing. Looking closely he could see the gold rope bracelet on her left wrist with her watch, where she always wore it. Flipping the picture over, it was dated May 2063. It was a picture of the last time he had gone sailing with Jen.   
............................... 

Loxley, Catalina & Houston 2063   
  
In early January the Angels were sent on a mission on the Yorktown. There were pirates raiding the mining communities and playing havoc with the shipping lanes. It was the first mission that Jen was sent on with them and it was hard on her. She had come to care about all of the squad. They would see her face above the landing bay when they got into their pits and she was there again when they returned hours later. She never expressed her worries to any of them, when she was awake. But in the early hours of the morning, Jen would talk in her sleep. That was when her new squad learned just how worried she really was. 

While they were gone, the Doctor helped out in the Yorktown's Sickbay, but when they returned she was there for them, to patch up any bruises or injuries they might have received. Always giving each person a post-flight check. It hadn't taken her long to figure out that the Angels would hide an injury from her if they thought they could get away with it. 

"Jenny," Gloria Collins whispered to her friend, who was sleeping on the bunk above hers in the quarters shared by the Angels on the Yorktown. 

"Hhmm, Gloria?" 

"Ssshhh, wake up Jenny. I need a favor," Collins whispered. "Get into my bunk and pretend to be me. The upper bunk is easier to make it look like someone is sleeping in it. When it's really empty. Besides, no one would ever think it's not you in bed. If my bed looked suspect, they'd know I wasn't in it." 

"I'm not sure if you insulted me or complimented me." Jen frowned as she crawled out of bed. 

From the next bunk over, McQueen saw a flash of a bare leg as Jen slipped down. Just what he needed, Jen sleeping inches from him. 

"Why did you insist I take the upper bunk, if we were just going to exchange them in the middle of the night?" The smaller woman shivered as she got between the sheets. "And where are you going?" 

"You know where I'm going. He finally asked me." Collins looked really happy for the first time since Jenny had met her. 

"You and the Colonel are going to get in so much trouble!" Jen worried. 

"Only if we're caught," Gloria smiled back. "I'll be back before reveille." 

"He had better be worth it." She muttered after Collins had left. It was then, as she readjusted her pillow that she saw the silver-haired head on the pillow that was inches from hers. _I can't do this,_ she thought, her hand moved involuntarily to the top of her pillow, almost touching McQueen's. Her eyes closed, and she willed herself to sleep. 

The Angels were gone from Loxley for three weeks. It had taken them that long to track down and destroy all the pirate strongholds in and around Saturn. When they returned they were to have five days leave. Jenny would have used the time to work at the In-Vitro Health Facility, but the Navy had made it clear to her that she was to stay away until she was reassigned there. McQueen had been right, her book had had consequences that she had never figured on. 

"How about a trip to Catalina?" McQueen suggested as he looked at a very tired Jenny on the flight deck of the Yorktown. He and the Angels were flying their Hammerheads back. Jen was going by ISSCV with personnel going on leave. They had just entered Earth's orbit and were waiting for lift-off clearance. 

"You'd really like to go?" Jen's face lit up at the prospect. She had spent a number of restless nights sleeping in Gloria Collins' bunk. Since Gloria always went to bed in that bunk and appeared to wake up in it, Jenny couldn't tactfully make up the bed with her head at the other end. Besides, she felt safer sleeping inches away from Ty, than inches away from Webb.   
  
One morning Gloria had awakened her to climb back in bed, and Jenny's hand had been almost touching McQueen's, each seeming to reach for the other in their sleep. Gloria had pointed this fact out to the shorter woman, not realizing that she had hit very close to the truth.   
................................ 

Jen and McQueen left Newport Beach early on a Tuesday morning, as the sun was beginning to silhouette the city behind them. They hadn't been underway long when they ran into the first of a line of storms that were blowing down from Canada. The sea ran high. There was rain and some hail, along with high winds. Jenny was glad to have McQueen along with her on this trip. She hadn't realized how tired she was from the last few weeks and the extra hands and eyes were a big help. When they finally tied up at the dock, eight hours later, she was shivering and blue. 

"You go on up to the house and get warmed up, I'll close down the boat for the night," McQueen offered after getting a look at Jenny in the dock lights. 

"Ty, I can take care of it!" Jenny's teeth were chattering. 

"I know you can, but you don't have to." He was rubbing her hands between his to try to warm them up. "Jen, you trust me to sail your boat. You can trust me to lock it down." 

"Okay, thanks," Jen smiled. She did trust him with her boat, she realized, and that thought scared her. She grabbed her duffle bag and headed up the hill, not wanting to think about it. 

Two hours later, after they had showered, and eaten a hot meal, Jenny, McQueen and Patsy were in the living room drinking cappuccino and cognac. A fire was roaring in the fireplace. Patsy was digging the story of the last few weeks out of a reticent McQueen. Jenny was curled up in the corner of the couch. She could feel the rhythmic purring of her cat, who had promptly plopped herself down on her feet and fallen asleep. 

"That sounded like quite an adventure you two had," Patsy smiled at both her guests. "Jenny?" She shook her head as she saw that the young woman had fallen asleep with her head on the pillow on the arm of the couch. Her knees pulled up. "Would you grab the cognac before she drops it?" Patsy indicated to McQueen. He was sitting on the floor his back to the couch, his legs stretched out in front of the fireplace. 

Turning, he took the delicate, balloon shaped crystal out of Jen's limp hand. He froze for a moment as a memory of that hand touching his as he slept on the Yorktown, flashed through his mind. It had been twice as shocking to realize that she slept wearing the bracelet he had given her. Though, he had said for her to wear it to remember the Windswept. He quickly recovered by reaching for the throw at the back of the couch and covering her with it. 

"Is she going to be all right?" McQueen looked over his shoulder, watching Jen sleep. 

"She'll be fine." Patsy didn't miss the look Ty had given the sleeping woman. "When she gets too cold on a trip over here this happens. Particularly if a little cognac is added." 

"That's why you worry about her when she sails in bad weather?" McQueen was remembering what Jen had told him a few weeks ago. 

"She told you about that, did she?" Patsy smiled and shook her head. "That's part of it. I don't like her sailing in rough seas by herself. I don't care how many safeties she and Lars have rigged on that boat." 

"You love her very much don't you?" It was an emotion that McQueen didn't understand. 

"Of course I do." Patsy moved to the raised hearth, her stiff right leg resting close to McQueen's feet. "Just because I'm an in-vitro, doesn't keep me from giving and receiving love." 

"But how do you control it? Make it happen or go away?" McQueen was swamped with feelings from Amy. Though he was beginning to realize that he had never loved her. 

"You can't," Patsy nodded toward Jenny. "I guess it would be handy to be able to turn love on and off like a water faucet, but that's not how it works." 

"How does it work then?" McQueen finished his cognac and picked up Jen's glass to take a sip. "I can quote from poets and philosophers, but real life is another thing all together." 

"I can only tell you how it's been for me." Patsy looked McQueen in the eyes. She remembered the empty look she found there from when she was much younger. "Love is like the fire behind me. It keeps you warm. It adds light to your life. But like this fire, it needs tending and care. It can also be destructive, if one isn't careful. The trick is learning how to take care of yourself and the fire." 

"The trick can be finding the fire," McQueen smiled. 

"Remember, a fire starts out as a small spark." Patsy wondered if McQueen was talking about his ability to love, or to be loved. "You have to keep your eyes peeled for that spark. Do you remember a few years ago I told you about Jenny as a baby, looking up at me and smiling? That was the first spark for me. It burned straight to my heart and changed me forever." 

"You were lucky to have recognized it when it happened," McQueen sighed. 

"I didn't. It felt so good after all those months of being alone. I just let it happen." Patsy shrugged. "I guess that's the secret, Ty. You have to let it happen." 

"The problem is that when you do that," McQueen was looking into the past. "You don't know if it's a destructive fire or a warming one." 

"That's not exactly how I said it. You think on it a bit." Patsy looked at her watch. "Time to wake that one up, before she ends up with a stiff neck." She pointed toward Jenny. "Hand me the snifters. I'll lock up. Would you help her up stairs?" 

Ty sat on the floor watching the woman sleep as he heard Patsy's shuffling footsteps in the kitchen. "Jen, wake up." He touched her shoulder as he spoke. 

"Hi there," gray eyes blinked, then met blue ones. "Sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep. Jenny put her feet on the floor and shoved the throw aside, much to the complaint of her cat. "Sorry about that Cinders, but you've got to watch where you fall asleep," she grinned up at McQueen and stood, not very steady on her feet. 

"Look who's talking?" McQueen reached for Jen, afraid she would lose her balance. 

"I'm okay. Just not quite awake yet." Still half asleep she reached for his cheek and gently caressed him. "But thanks for worrying." She turned and went upstairs. Leaving McQueen thinking about sparks, fires, and a burning desire for a woman he had no business wanting. 

Jenny and McQueen spent that winter and spring sailing. When they had leave they would head for Catalina. As the months past, he became as proficient at handling the Windswept as Jenny. Lars, the shipwright who worked for Jen, interested McQueen in a set of blueprints for a racing sloop the older man had tucked away years ago. By the end of April, the two men had begun bringing their design to life with wood and fiberglass. 

The two officers kept a strange balance in their relationship. When they were in Loxley, they treated each other with professional courtesy due their rank and positions. The man and woman were always careful to be the Major and the Doctor. When they were sailing, they became friends, and were Jen and Ty 

McQueen kept a tight reign on the building desire he felt for Jen. It had become a test of his self-control. He had pulled out his wedding picture and put it back where it used to stand on his desk. That was another kind of self-control. Every time he looked at that picture he reminded himself of what had happened when he let his emotions get the better of him. Making himself look and remember had became a mental exercise. 

If Jen remembered caressing his cheek that night in January, she never mentioned it. He knew that they were growing closer to one another, but he couldn't put a name to their relationship. He doubted she understood what was going on between them anymore than he did. The only certainties he had regarding Jen were that she cared about him, was his friend, and that she didn't trust easily, but for some reason she trusted him. The desire he had felt for her at Christmas was building, but always under the surface. He didn't understand it and refused to acknowledge it most of the time.   
  
In late May, Jen decided to go to the In-Vitro Rights March in Houston. McQueen tried to talk her out of it, but she wouldn't listen to him. He was worried about her safety, but couldn't get away that weekend, so Jen went alone.   
........................... 

"McQ!" someone pounding on his door woke him from a sound sleep. He had been Officer Of The Day for the last 24 hours and was beat. "Open up McQ!" 

"Collins?" A sleepy McQueen was surprised to find a furious Gloria Collins pounding on his door at an early hour, on a Sunday morning. "What the hell do you want?" 

"Jenny's been mugged in Houston. We've got a transport leaving in 20 mikes." She glared at him. McQueen didn't need to ask how Collins knew. It was an open secret. When the call came into Lt. Col. Smyth's quarters about the mugging, Collins was in bed beside him. That was how she had been able to pull strings and get them a transport so fast, as well. 

"Is she all right?" McQueen felt his insides heave, but his expression turned to ice. 

"We don't know, but we're going. ALL of us!" Collins wasn't taking no for an answer. "Be at the airstrip in 15 mikes, McQ!" 

It was a quiet flight from Loxley to Houston. McQueen sat in the back of the transport, his insides turning to ice. When they arrived at the hospital, the nurses didn't stand a chance, eight, very angry Angels, dressed in signature black, descended on them. In no time at all they were let into Jen's room. 

"Jenny, hon," Collins reached for her friend's hand. "You're safe. We're here now." 

Jenny looked small in the hospital bed. She had a black eye and her left arm was in a cast from above the elbow to the tips of her fingers. Ty could tell by her shallow breathing that something was wrong with her ribs as well. 

"I'm okay, really." Jen tried to reassure the group of men and women around her bed. "Really I am." She smiled, her eyes meeting McQueen's. 

"McQ," Collins looked over her shoulder. "You stay with her for a while, the rest of us will keep the nurses out of here. We'll take turns so she isn't left alone until we can take her back with us." 

"Sure thing." McQueen didn't know if he should curse Collins or thank her. She had given him the time to talk to Jen alone and made it seem like a natural thing. 

"Ty? You came?" Jen held out her right hand to him. 

"Of course I did." He checked her over carefully, seeing more bruises and dressings than he had before. His eyes turned cold, as he fought the urge to hit something. 

"It's okay. I was mugged. It could have happened to anyone." Jen smiled, but the effect was ruined when she winced. 

"Damn it all Jen, I told you not to go to this thing!" McQueen was furious. "Ever since you wrote that damn book, you've been a target for every idiot with a grudge against in-vitros. You're living in the real world now, not that safe little Island of yours!" 

"It's something I had to do!" Her breath caught as a sharp pain from her broken rib caught her unawares. "I would think you, of all people, would understand." 

"Well I don't." He ground out. "Not something like this!" He paced the room, trying to contain his anger. 

"I'm sorry, Ty." Jen watched his fury grow. "I didn't mean to, well to cause...you...."   
  
"Don't ever apologize to me! Not for this!" He turned, feeling hollow and empty. "I'm the one who should be apologizing to you." 

"No, never you." Jen whispered as her eyes filled with tears. "Haven't you figured out by now that I don't see a difference between in-vitro and in-utero born!" 

"Oh Jen." His anger was contained by something stronger. He picked her up from the bed and sat in a chair with her on his lap. Jen was in his arms and for a moment that was all that mattered. He wasn't a man who gave comfort, so he wasn't surprised when he moved to kiss her. His hand ran through her hair and she snuggled closer. That was all the invitation that he needed. His lips were millimeters away from hers when his hand in her hair moved against her neck and touched the clear gel covering over the burn. 

"What the hell!" McQueen pulled back as he found the dressing on her neck. "Those sons-of-bitches!" He ground out. 

Jen felt him stiffen and grip her tighter. Looking up at his grim face she sighed knowing she would have to tell him what happened. But that was all she was going to tell. Not what might have happened. After the telling, McQueen had piled her back into bed and paced the room again, his anger in complete control of him. Jen watched him. When he had pulled back from her, it left an empty ache deep inside, she didn't understand. 

"It's okay, Ty." Jen shook her head as his anger grew. 

"It's okay?" McQueen turned to her. His face a frozen mask. Not only was his anger worse because of the burn, but also he was feeling guilt because he had used her injury to take advantage of her. "That wasn't just an ordinary mugging. It was a terrorist attack against an In-vitro Rights worker. A personal attack against you! You can sit there and tell me it's okay?" It made his stomach clench to picture what had happened. 

"I'm alive. The wrist will heal. The ribs will heal." Jen looked him straight in the eyes. "And the burn will heal. This is a kind of war. There are casualties in war." 

"Lieutenant, this needs to be taken seriously." McQueen fell back on rank to shore up his eroding feelings. It wouldn't take much and he would be holding Jen again. This time he wouldn't let her go, no matter how bad an idea it would be for her. 

"You're feeling guilty?" The truth was beginning to pierce the fog of painkillers Jen was on. "You think because we have had a friendship the last months, it has brought attention to me?" 

"We haven't been very circumspect about it." Let Jen think that was where his guilt was coming from. In fact, the more he thought about it, there was truth to what she had said. He knew that the Angels were aware of something between them. They were gone at the same times to often for it to be coincidence, but none of them would have hurt Jen. But they were seen together regularly when sailing, so anyone could know. 

"This is ridiculous." Jen sputtered. Feeling Ty pull further from her with every second that passed. 

"That's something we can agree on!" 

"Hey, guys, what's all the shouting about?" Tom McDougall stuck his head in Jenny's room. He had heard McQ and Angel-Doc fighting from the hall. 

"Nothing. It's your watch. McDougall!" McQueen turned and stomped out of Jen's room. 

He checked at the nurses' station to make sure Jen was going to be all right and to borrow paper and an envelope. It was when he was speaking with one of the nurses that he found out her blouse had been torn off. His blood turned to ice as he guessed the muggers real intent. 

"Collins!" McQueen called out. "Give this to Jen." He handed her an envelope with a quickly scribbled note. "I'm heading back to Loxley." 

"You're what?" Collins couldn't believe this was the same man that Jenny was slowly pulling out of seclusion. He was as grim as she had ever seen him. 

"You heard me, Captain." McQueen's eyes were deadly. 

"She's being released in a few hours. Then will be on medical leave for the next month. We're going to take her home to Catalina. Aren't you coming with us?" Collins squinted at the man in front of her. 

"Why would I want to do that?" He stood very straight. His hands gripped into fists at his sides. 

"But I thought....?" 

"Well you thought wrong!" McQueen turned on his heel and left. 

"You cold bastard!" Collins hurled at the retreating figure. 

"That's a medical impossibility." McQueen mumbled as he pushed through the doors to the hospital. With every step he took, he pounded harder on anything he was feeling. With any luck, by the time he got to Loxley, he would have his emotions beaten into submission. 

That was the last time he saw Jen, until he looked out of an ISSCV and recognized a dirty-faced doctor moving toward him. Jen had been on medical leave when war broke out.   
........................................... 

The Saratoga 2063 

Looking at the picture in his hand had brought it all back. "_Now what_," McQueen looked around his quarters as an idea formed. Putting everything back in the footlocker, except the sailing picture, then sliding the trunk back where it belonged. He reached for the framed wedding photo on his desk. Carefully opening the back of the frame, he placed the picture of Jen and himself behind the one that was already there. Yes, that should do it. Smiling at the irony of the hidden photo.   
  
McQueen had kept up the mental exercises that Amy had come to represent, even after he thought Jen was out of his life. It had helped him in the months that followed. When his life was torn apart again: the Angels dying; being grounded permanently; and then finding a group of young Marines that meant a great deal to him. Now, Jen was back again. His life seemed to move in a circle. 

Looking back, he knew that he felt more than desire for Jen. If it had only been desire, he would have acted on it. He couldn't say he loved her. He wished it were that easy. Love was an emotion he couldn't identify. He couldn't find the spark, as Patsy would say. There was a time when he thought he loved Amy. If that was love, it wasn't all it was cracked up to be. 

What he felt for Jen was different than anything he had ever felt and it didn't make any sense. Walking away from Amy had been hard because it hurt him. Walking away from Jen had been easy, even though it hurt him. When he walked out of that hospital in Houston he didn't doubt for a minute that he was doing the right thing. Involvement with an in-vitro man would only make Jen that much more of a target. That was something that hadn't changed. 

Smiling he placed the framed picture back on his desk. To every one else it looked like it always did. McQueen could see the truth beneath the lie. Now he had to go back living the lie to hide the truth. He had promised General Savage that he would keep Jen safe, and he would. That included safe from him, as well. 


	3. Ch: 3 Moves On

ch3.html   


THE MOVING FINGER WRITES 

Ch. 3 Moves On (pt. 1) 

*The moving finger writes; and, having writ,   
Moves on: Nor all your Piety nor Wit   
Will lure it back to cancel half a Line   
Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it. 

from the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam 

Earth, November 2, 2063 

The big man used the tip of his cigar to burn the coded message that had arrived moments ago. He watched in delight as flames licked at the small sheet of paper in the ashtray on his desk. "*Four down, one more to go,"* he smiled. The message had carried the news of Carmine Delaney's death. Now, there only remained Dr. Jennifer Kirkwood. How she had escaped from Kordis, he didn't know. The woman seemed to have more lives than a cat, but even cats ran out of lives, especially scarred cats. He laughed as he puffed on his cigar. He could almost smell the fear and burning skin. Too bad he hadn't known she was going to cause him so much trouble. He would have snapped her neck when he had the chance. 

He had thought he was safe. If she was going to find out about the genetic tampering that had taken place at most In-Vitro Authority facilities, it would have turned up when she researched her book. Ever since, that damn book had been published, it was a thorn in his side. Up until that time he had things well under control. First the book, then those doctors rallying public support for in-vitros after Chartwell's assignation. Only their deaths would assure him that he had covered all their bases. 

Reaching in his pocket he pulled out an aqua leather jeweler's box containing an engagement ring. He had picked the ring with the utmost care. The stone: a perfect blue-white diamond, large enough to speak of wealth and power, but not gaudy or over-stated. Smiling he knew that Diane would love the ring. 

The press had been surprised when Diane Hayden began dating Carleton Stryker. It gratified him to know that all the secrecy he and Diane had gone to over the years had paid off. They had been working toward this moment for a long time. She, moving openly through Aerotech and using the In-Vitro Rights Movement to launch a political career. He, always behind the scenes, knowing where all of Aerotech's skeletons were buried. It had helped him to amass a fortune. Together, they had planned Chartwell's death and the manipulation of the elections. Together, they would be a power that no one could beat. After tonight, when they announced their engagement, the universe would be theirs.   
................................ 

The Saratoga 

Since leaving Kordis, the Saratoga had been in one battle after another. Jenny was kept busy in Sickbay, as the Medical Corps worked overtime in an attempt to stay one step ahead of the wounded that poured in. 

She stayed away from the alcove that McQueen had shared with her. Guessing, rightly, that it was a private place for him. Ever since that night, he had been cool toward her, professional, but cool. He only spoke to her when it was absolutely necessary. The few times she had joined the 58th in the Tun, McQueen would leave within minutes of her arrival. His behavior was confusing and it hurt. But there was no one she could talk to about it, so she buried herself in her work and enjoyed spending time with the young Marines she bunked with. 

At times when her nightmares would return, instead of walking the ship, Jenny pulled McQueen's sweat shirt out of the pocket along side her bunk. She would bury her face in the soft material and breath deeply of the scents that reminded her of the man. It would always make her feel safe, and she would end up sleeping a dreamless sleep. 

When they had argued, that night, she had walked off in a temper. Her first impulse on returning to her quarters and discovering she was still wearing his sweat shirt, was to toss it out the nearest airlock. In the nights to follow she was glad she hadn't acted on impulse. Not only was it helping her sleep, but she was getting a perverse pleasure out of knowing that he knew that she still had his shirt. She was waiting him out. If he wanted the shirt back, he was going to have to ask for it!   
.............................. 

The Saratoga November 12, 2063 - 1400 hours 

Jenny and the Wildcards were sitting around their quarter's enjoying some of Hawkes' antique discs. The six of them loved the beat of many of the old songs. Hawkes was pounding on the table as if it was a drum and Wang liked to pretend he was playing a guitar. The other four singing along. They had been making so much noise, they almost didn't hear the klaxon begin ringing and the call that come over the loud speaker: "BATTLE STATIONS, ALL HANDS REPORT TO BATTLE STATIONS." As the huge ship shook, the young people looked grim. Jenny ran for Sickbay and the 58th, grabbed their flight gear to head for their Hammers.   
  
The Saratoga jumped and bounced, as the battle raged on. Jenny fought to keep her balance at the scrub sink, without contaminating her hands and arms. Doing surgery on a rocking ship had become the norm, of late. As she slipped into her gown and was gloved by the nurse, she gave one last silent thank you, that this time she was with her squad instead of having to watch from the distance of thousands of MSK's away. She took a deep breath and closed her mind to the Wildcards. She refused to think about the exposed bridge, where she knew Ty was helping coordinate the battle. She had her own battle to fight. Right now it was trying to find the metal that was buried in this young lieutenant's abdomen, and it would take all her concentration.   
............................ 

The Saratoga, 1545 hours 

An explosion made the huge space carrier buck harder than before, and everything went black. "Nobody move," Jenny called out. "Where's that back-up generator?" 

"It takes 40 seconds to come on line, Ma'am," Sgt. Winston Trosper, the young Corpsman, who was assisting with the surgery called out. 

"That's too long, I need light," Jenny called to the circulating nurse. "There's a piece of this kid's Hammer lodged next to his aorta!" 

As someone was counting down the seconds until the generator should come on-line, Jenny silently cursed a war that would suddenly turn a general surgeon into a vascular surgeon. If that metal had pierced the major artery, she knew that she was over her head. 

When the lights came back on, everything was eerily quiet. The ship had stopped rocking and there were no guns heard firing. In that moment, Jenny had a flash of the bridge bombed and on fire. Dead bodies everywhere. "*No! I won't think about it. He can't die now."* 

She forced her mind to the task at hand. With a sigh she gently pulled the shrapnel from beside the aorta and watched as the large artery pulsed, but didn't pump blood into the exposed cavity. "Is he maintaining his blood pressure, Corpsman?" 

"Yes, Ma'am," the young Corpsman grinned back at her. 

Jenny gave a silent, "*thank you*" to the god of surgery. After checking the x-ray at hand, she continued to dig pieces of splintered Hammerhead out of the young Marine's side. His damaged cockpit had buckled under the stress of separation from the fuselage. He was lucky that normal atmosphere had been restored to the docking bay, or he would have died instantly. 

On the bridge of the Saratoga all eyes were trained on the sight of a Chig craft 40 feet away from the command windows, their crash shields open. Targeting computers were down and not due back online for another 20 seconds. Ross, McQueen and the con officer stared into the face of death unless they could launch torpedoes manually.   
.......................... 

The Saratoga, November 12 - 1930 hours 

The rumor swept the ship. An enemy aircraft had been captured. The 58th had brought it into a secured hanger deck. Excitement and speculation moved on the heels of the rumor. Everywhere people were talking about it. Some wanted it destroyed in an act of personal vengeance for the heavy losses Earth had been suffering in the last months. Others, looked thoughtful, speculative, not as easy to voice an opinion.   
....................... 

The Saratoga, November 13 - 2200 hours 

"Well, Jennifer, how pleasant to see you again," Howard Sewell, smiled at the woman who was leaving the Mess Hall. 

"Howard? What are you doing way out here?" Sewell had been one her father's graduate students at Berkeley. Jenny had never liked him, though he had made it clear the first time they met, that he was attracted to her. 

"Business. You appear to have gone native, my dear." His voice oozed with his own self-importance, as he gave her a head to toe scrutiny. Taking in her rumpled scrubs, lack of make-up and hair still damp from a quick washing in the scrub sink before leaving Sickbay. "Though you are as beautiful as ever." 

"Cut the crap. The only reason you ever had any interest in me was because you thought it would gain you points with my father." Jen clenched her hands in the pockets of the lab coat she had thrown over her scrubs. She didn't like or trust Sewell, but she wanted to know what he was doing here. 

"Jennifer, you sell yourself short, that wasn't the only reason I was attracted to you." His wolfish grin surprised her. "I'm not stupid. It didn't take me long to realize that your father didn't give a rat's ass about you. Now I, on the other hand..." 

"I am not interested in you or your supposed interest in me." Jen's gray eyes turned almost black as she glared at the man blocking her path. His crack about her father had hit home, but she wasn't going to let him see that it had hurt. "Now if you want to tell me what Aerotech is doing on the Saratoga that's another thing. Otherwise, good night," she began to shove past him. 

"I'm here to take over the alien craft. We, Aerotech, will be working on it." Sewell glowed in his power. "I'm not at liberty to discuss anything further, especially out in an open corridor. Now, if you would like to join me in my quarters, we could have many things to talk about." He ran his finger down her arm. 

Jen hid the smile she felt. Her ploy had worked. Howard Sewell hadn't changed in 10 years. "Thanks, but no thanks. You've told me all I want to hear." She moved past him as quickly as possible. "By the way, give my best to your wife." 

"That creep giving you any trouble, Dr. Kirkwood?" Cooper Hawkes had watched the conversation at a discrete distance. 

"Thanks, Coop," Jenny smiled. "Nothing I can't handle." 

"When are you going to realize you don't have to settle for a... the Product, as we say at the Company," Sewell, called after her. He grinned, as he saw the anger on the young man's face, knowing Hawkes knew he had been insulted, but didn't understand how. 

"Easy, Hawkes," Jenny warned, as they walked away from Sewell. 

The next morning Jenny heard that Commodore Ross had thrown Aerotech off the Saratoga. Not long after that she was told to report to the engineering group that was going over the Chig aircraft. 

"Lieutenant Stroud, I'm not sure how much help I can be with this. My undergraduate degrees were in chemistry and biology, but that was all based on Earth sciences. It's my understanding that so far no new elements have been discovered. The rumor from Aerotech is that the Chigs are able to combine elements making new compounds that Earth has been unable to duplicate, though." 

"We need a medical expert on this one, and you're part of the 58th. Since you guys are going to be taking this craft out, you should be in on all of the planning," Melissa Stroud added. "Besides that kind of talk is music to my engineering ears. I think you're just what we're looking for. This craft has some kind of bio-neural inter-link we hope you can help us with." 

That was the first Jenny had heard about the covert bombing strike. She went to Commodore Ross to make she was included on the mission. It would be the second one she had flown with the 58th. The first had been to take supplies and new troops to one of the planets in the Kordis system. They had taken out wounded, as well. Though Earth Forces were being pushed back, they were leaving specialized squads of recon Marines on many of the planets as they left. It was a 21st century version of the coast watchers that were used in WWII. Everyone hoped that they would still be alive when Earth retook that part of space. 

Ty was going to be furious with her for going over his head about this mission, but that was just too bad. She wasn't going to be left behind this time. The Angels had left her on Earth because she was still on medical leave when they went on their last mission. If she hadn't been mugged, she would have been with them on the Yorktown.   
....................... 

Saratoga, November 19, 2063 

They had been working hard for six days to get ready for the mission. With any luck, in ten days, just before the launch window closed for the Cerrus System, they would be ready to go. Jenny was spreading herself thin, between working in Sickbay and working with the 5-8 on the Chig bomber. Sleep was a luxury that she couldn't afford at the moment. It was a few minutes after midnight when she ran into Melissa Stroud and Paul Wang in the corridor, and learned that the launch window was closing. The mission had been moved up and no one had bothered to tell her about it. 

Jen pounded on McQueen's hatch. She was angry, and hurt. 

"Who's at my hatch?" McQueen called out. He had just gotten back from a late night meeting with Ross. He was going on this mission with the kids and he had things he needed to get done. 

"It's Jenny," she called back. 

Ty opened his door, a frown on his face. Jen marched into his quarters without waiting for an invitation. He could tell by her posture that she was angry. He had hoped to avoid this confrontation. Someone had let slip to her that the mission had been moved up. "*Damn, this is the last thing I need to deal with at a time like this.*" He had hoped she would be busy in Sickbay until after they left. 

"What were you going to do, McQueen?" She turned on him giving him both barrels. "Just let them leave without telling me? Unless communications have broken down completely on the Saratoga, a mission that I was assigned to, will be leaving at 0645 and no one bothered to inform me of the moved-up date." 

"You are out of line, Lieutenant Commander." McQueen had decided that if he dealt with her as Lieutenant Colonel to Lieutenant Commander, he just might be able to pull this off. 

"Pardon?" He had caught Jen completely off guard. She had a sinking feeling he know exactly what he was doing. 

"I realize that in the Medical Corps, there are certain laxaties allowed, but you are on a fighting vessel now, and we are at war." He could see her pale as she realized he wasn't going to let her argue. "Tomorrow is one of your regular day's in Sickbay. That is where you can best serve the war effort." 

"Colonel," Jen could play the soldier game if need be. "The Lieutenant Commander wishes to protest the Colonel's assignment of the Lieutenant Commander to Sickbay tomorrow. The Lieutenant Commander is needed with her squad." 

"Stand at attention, Lieutenant Commander," McQueen was frantic to get her out of his quarters. He believed that the odds were against any of them returning from bombing the Chig held planet. There was no way he was letting her go on this mission. It had taken all his self control to stay away from her these past weeks. His eyes drifted to his wedding picture. "*Think of Amy, and all the havoc that you let her cause in your life, and you can do this."* 

Jenny stood very straight, eyes on the far wall. Fighting to keep a tight reign on her emotions. She could feel tears prickling at the backs of her eyes. In all the months since she was mugged, she had cried only once and that had been at Gloria Collins' memorial service. Now was not the time to start. 

"I'm only going to say this once, so get it the first time around." McQueen kept his eyes glued to the picture on his desk. But the harder he looked, the more he saw the picture beneath. He could smell the soft rose fragrance of Jen and it was doing things to his body he didn't want to happen. Part of his mind called him a fool for not taking this woman to his bed and spending what could be his last night alive, as he wanted to, buried deep inside of her. There had always been an attraction between the two of them. He wasn't sure Jen was aware of it, but it was there. And it frightened him. "We are going on that mission and you are staying here. If all goes as planned, we will be back in a few hours. If the unexpected happens, we will have no use for a doctor. I don't even want to see you on the flight deck tomorrow morning." 

"What?" The significance of what he said sunk in. "Commodore Ross is letting YOU go, but I'm forced to...." 

"That will be all, Lieutenant Commander," McQueen cut her off. When she didn't move he added "Dismissed!" 

When his hatch slammed, McQueen gave a sigh of relief. He would have toughed it out for as long as it took, but it would have cost him to do so. He knew he was doing the right thing. Jen had no business on a mission like this. "*Hell, none of us do, but someone has to do it,*" he thought as he opened his right hand and realized that he had been gripping his fist so tightly that the guitar pick Ross had given him for luck, had left deep grooves in his palm. Staring at the pick gave him an idea. He moved to his desk and began to quickly write. 

Half an hour later he put down his pen and read what he had written. With a sigh, McQueen opened the picture frame on his desk. He pulled out the photo of Jenny and himself. "*Oh, Jen,"* he muttered. The confrontation had caused a deep pain in his insides. He knew that if they beat the odds and returned, any chance of the friendship they had had in the past would be dead, if she spent the night in his bed. Jen was no one's one-night stand, not even his. He knew from past experience that once a desired woman was obtained, the desire was gone. He kept telling himself sending her away was the right thing to do. Why wasn't he believing it, and why wouldn't the pain go away? *"After all,"* he reasoned. *"These deep feelings for Jen were sexual and nothing else. He had learned to control his desires long ago."* 

He was doing it for Jen's welfare, McQueen added for good measure. If he did as he wanted, it would have put her in further danger. There were no secrets on a ship the size of the Saratoga. If she had spent the night in his quarters, it would have been all over the ship by lunch tomorrow. It would bring more attention to her, when Ross and General Savage were working to keep her from being noticed.   
........................... 

Jenny walked stiffly out of his quarters. "*I won't cry, I won't cry,*" she kept repeating it to herself as she hurried through the night time quiet of the ship. She finally reached the alcove, high above the port docking bays. She slid to the deck, not bothering with the small ledge behind her. Staring out the window she felt the tears filling her eyes. Blinking fast, she refused to let them fall. 

"*Oh God, it's happening all over again!"* Not only was the past repeating itself, but Ty was acting so strangely. She remembered the 127th calling him The Iceman, behind his back. She had never understood the reference. She did now. 

McQueen found Jen sitting on the deck, with her head against the window, an hour later. If he backed away she would never know he had been there. He knew from experience, that sitting in that space you can hear someone coming, but Jen was so lost in her misery that she wasn't watching her six. Part of him wanted to yell at her for not being more careful. But he had a gaping hole in his middle that had been viciously ripped out when they had argued earlier and he couldn't fight with her anymore. He saw the tears streaking the side of her face and her breath was ragged from trying not to cry. He was no good with tears. Amy had tried to use tears on him, when she wanted to get her own way, but had soon discovered that tears made her in-vitro husband helpless, and therefore angry.   
  
"Jen," he whispered before he realized he had decided to stay. 

"What are you doing here, Colonel?" She turned her face away from him, embarrassed that he had found her like this. She was fighting for any shred of dignity she could get. 

"Probably the same thing you are," moving closer he sat beside her. This had been a place that had given them both comfort. McQueen knew that Jen had been staying away since he had shown it to her. He had been relieved, but after the disagreement in his quarters, he was glad to find her here. Knowing that he wouldn't have searched her out, he thanked the Fates that he didn't believe in, for her presence. 

"I'll leave then," her voice cracked. "You've got a mission to fly in a few hours. And I...a..a." 

"Wait," he pulled her back to the deck, facing him. "If we don't....If I don't, make it back tomorrow, give this to Commodore Ross." He pulled an envelope out of his flightsuit. He had planned to give it to Ross in the morning before he left, but it would carry more weight if she gave it to him. 

"I can't do this," she whispered as she pushed back into the corner away from Ty. "I just can't." Pulling her knees up and wrapping her arms around them, she buried her face on her knees and cried. In all the time he had know her, he had never seen Jen really cry. At times, he had seen tears form in her eyes, but she always got them under control before they fell. 

"What can't you do?" McQueen moved closer to her. "Jen, talk to me." He felt as if someone had taken a K-bar to his insides as he watched her. He realized he was the cause of the pain she was feeling, but didn't understand how or why. 

"It's happening all over, again." She looked up, but still had her arms wrapped tightly around herself. "Please don't do this to me," Jen looked at McQueen in supplication. 

"Don't do what to you, Jen?" The pain he was feeling was so intense it drove him to reach for her. He had enough control to only cup his hands over her shoulders instead of pulling her into his arms as he needed. "I'm not doing anything to you." 

"You're making me stay behind!" Jen cried out. "Please, don't do that to me again." She moved to her knees and gripped the collar of his flightsuit as fresh tears rolled down her face. "Please, Ty, don't make me watch while you all die, again." 

"Jen?" McQueen didn't know what to say. The raw emotion on her face was cutting him deeply, but he didn't know how to respond. 

"That night, that terrible night. I took the Windswept out past the Isthmus. I had to be with the Angels, during that last battle, even if all I could do was watch. But my heart was out there on the edge of the solar system. There was the black sky filled with stars and a huge battle going on light years away. I could see it all. Little pin pricks of light would flare then die out, over and over again. Each time, I knew someone died. Then there were a few large explosions as the carriers were hit. That's when I knew, none of you were coming home. I can't go through that again. Please, let me come along?" 

"If you had been with us on the Yorktown, you'd be dead." McQueen remembered being thankful that Jen had been mugged, when he had awakened in the hospital at Loxley and learned that the Yorktown had been destroyed. "Everyone on that ship died. There hadn't been time to launch escape pods." 

"Damn it, Ty! Don't you understand? I don't care!" Jen still gripped his collar, but his hands had moved to cover hers. "I can't watch from a safe distance again." 

"No, Jen, you're too important." He pulled her hands free of him, but still held them tightly. "You're needed here and on Earth. It's people like you who will help change....." 

"NO!" She shook her head. "This isn't about a cause or mankind. This is about me. What I need. I can't lose you.....all, again," she begged. "Please, just this once let it be about me?" 

"It is about you, Jen. You HAVE to live." He didn't tell her he was speaking for himself, for what he needed. To know that if she was alive, and safe, it would allow him to do anything he needed to do. The letter that was crumpled between them was asking Ross to take care of her, if he wasn't here to do so. Telling his friend, as best as he understood himself, what Jen meant to him, and asking him to guard her. 

"Please, Ty, let me come along and we'll all live or die, together." 

He shook his head no as Jen cried harder. McQueen felt out of his depth. He had no idea how to give comfort. Her crying was digging at the hole that he had felt ripped out of him when they had argued in his quarters. At a loss for anything else to do, he pulled her close. It was like magic. Her warm body filled the painful place in him and the pain turned to feelings of peace and warmth. He pulled her closer as she buried her face in his neck. He could feel her tears against his skin. It was a new sensation. He had thought it would be embarrassing, but it wasn't. It added to the peace they were giving each other. His hands moved in her hair and up and down her back. He remembered her rubbing his back in detox. 

Was it really this easy? Was this all there was to it? Was this how one gave comfort? McQueen couldn't believe how simple it was. All the years he had marveled at natural-borns and their need to give and receive comfort. All those years he had pulled back. Afraid to touch. Afraid that something in him would break if he did. He'd been so wrong. He pulled her close to try to fill the gap that he felt in himself, to make himself feel better. It didn't seem right, that since he was causing her the pain that his should be relieved, too. He had never seen the connection before. Hell, why would he? Being a Tank, he was well versed in pain, but no one had ever taught him compassion. Maybe that was the secret to it all. The pain needed to be a shared thing in order to give real comfort, instead of the hollow words that can be given so causally. 

"There's nothing I can say to change your mind?" Jen's voice was raspy from crying. 

"No." Then, McQueen played his ace card. "You need to stay here. If we're going to make it back, we'll need all our concentration. If I'm worrying about you, I won't be able to do that." 

She pulled back in shock. Looking him in the eyes and seeing the truth in what he was saying. He was still holding her and her face was inches from his. "I won't argue anymore," Jen lay her head on his shoulder and put her arms around him. Her eyes still wet from tears. She knew he was right. 

"It's going to be okay, Jen," McQueen whispered, as he picked her up and sat her on his lap. "You're going to be okay." He leaned back against the bulkhead, his legs stretched out in front of him. If he looked to the right he could see the stars, but tonight he didn't care about stars. If this was his last night alive, he wanted to spend it with his arms wrapped around this woman. An hour ago all he could think about was taking her body. Now, he just wanted to hold her and feel the different kind of relief she was giving him. 

"I think I'm beginning to understand how Prometheus must have felt. Except, it's my heart, not my liver, that's going to be torn out on a regular basis." Jenny rubbed her wet face against Ty's front. "I've gotten you all soggy." 

"I won't tell anybody, if you won't?" He kidded as he looked down at her. 

"Talk to me Ty, about anything, just talk to me." That's how Jenny fell asleep. To the sound of his voice, as it rumbled through his chest, under her ear. Held close and warm, by the strange cold man who she had come to care too much for. A man who would most likely die and leave her alone, sometime tomorrow. 

McQueen looked down at the sleeping woman in his arms. She was peaceful at last. How had it all happened? How had he become so involved with this woman? He had promised himself not to care for anyone ever again and here he was caring about too many people. Caring in ways he never imagined for himself. Jen was right, they probably wouldn't return from the mission tomorrow, but he couldn't let his squad go without him. He understood how she felt on that issue. But she would be safe. Ross would see to that. 

In the past, when he began to care, he would walk away, or find a rule or regulation to make it impossible. But here he was, risking his life to be with five young people who he had known for a matter of months. He had told Ross that he loved them, and he guessed he did in a way, but it wasn't something he wanted to look at too closely. Then there was Jen. He leaned his cheek against the top of her head as she slept curled against him. "*This is the better way,"* he thought. He knew he cared about her more than he should. More than was good for her. It was too complicated to think about, tonight. He was glad he had found her here, glad they had this time together. If he was going to die, his last night wouldn't have been spent alone.   
......................... 

McQueen's watch beeped at 0500. He had dozed off and on, during the night, but had enjoyed holding Jenny as she slept. 

"Jen, wake up," he called softly. 

"Hmm," her eyes blinked as she tried to orient herself. For a moment she thought she was back on the ISSCV that had taken them off of Kordis. 

He watched her as she woke-up, something he had done before, once on a couch on Catalina, many times in Collins' bunk on the Yorktown, and the last time when they had sat here. You could tell a lot about a woman by how she woke up. Amy had always been grouchy in the morning, never wanting to touch or be touched. Jen was all soft. When she woke, she reminded him of her cat, Cinders. She looked and moved as if she wanted to be stroked. 

"Ty, did you get any sleep at all last night?" She was finally awake and realized where she was. 

"I'm fine, but you have to listen to me, this is important." He pulled the crumpled envelope from between them. "Promise me you'll give this to Commodore Ross if anything happens to me." 

"All right," she nodded. Today she was able to keep her tears under control. They were still sitting on the deck. She on his lap, and he with his arm around her. 

"Jen, there is one more thing I want you to do for me, and this time I'm asking, not ordering." He knew that she would and could disobey an order, even from him. "Please don't come to the landing bay. Watch from here if you must. I need to be able to concentrate completely from here on out, if there's a chance we're going to make it back." 

"All right," she touched his face as he stood with her in his arms, then put her on her feet. 

"I have to go," McQueen was already changing into battle mode. 

"I know," she felt him pull away from her. He made it almost to the steps, when she called out to him, "Ty, wait!" 

"Jen I have to go," he was caught by surprise as she ran to him and hugged him close. He thought he felt the brush of her lips on his cheek, but it happened so fast, it could have been wishful thinking. 

"Come back to me, all of you!" She called out as he moved down the stairs   
  
"I promise to try," looking up he saw her one last time. 

Holding the crumpled letter McQueen had written to Ross in her hand, Jenny moved back to McQueen's alcove. Her back against the bulkhead, she slid to the deck, all the energy drained out of her. 

"What do I do now?" She looked to the stars for an answer. Her insides hurt and she could hardly breath. 

"Gloria, I wish you were here for me to talk to," Jenny whispered. "I'm so confused. I feel, I feel...." Jen tried to deny, one last time, what had been simmering close to the surface for the last month. 

"So, that's the way of it?" Jenny muttered. "*Damn you Gloria! You knew! You knew that I had fallen in love with him. Why didn't you tell me?*" Jen shook her head, not knowing if she should laugh or cry. "*That's why after we returned from that first trip on the Yorktown, you stopped trying to fix me up with your men friends? All this time, I thought it was because you had suddenly become too involved with Philip Smyth.*" Jen could picture Gloria now, sitting up on a star somewhere, laughing her head off. She had always accused Jenny of being a bit obtuse where men were concerned. 

*"Way to go, Jenny, my girl. Fall in love with a man who not only doesn't understand the emotion, but who doesn't see you as a woman,*" she thought cynically. 

"Time you faced some facts," she murmured as she leaned her head back against the bulkhead and let her mind travel where it would. She had always been one to look at herself carefully and admit what she saw. Why had she hidden this from herself for so long? Now that she was seeing the truth, she realized that she had loved him for a while now. Smiling she thought of all the times his voice had echoed in her head when she was trapped on Kordis. At least that was finally making sense. 

She had thought she was immune to this kind of feeling. She had watched her father become a dried-up bitter old man, long before his time, because he had been in love. When had McQueen snuck past her carefully constructed wall? "*No, there is more to this problem than that,*" but Jen was unable to put her finger on what was still bothering her.   
  
Shoving the thoughts aside, she looked down at the docking bay, where she knew an ISSCV was being readied for take off. "Okay, McQueen, it's like this," she whispered to the stars. "You and the Wildcards come back to me, and I won't bother you with tears or emotions ever again. I'll say it just this once, then never bother you with it again. I love you," she smiled. "Pax, McQueen?" She flattened her hand on the window. Then she got up and left the alcove. She had made her deal with the Universe, and would honor it.   
  
By 1145 a rumor began circulating the Saratoga. Transmission had been broken off abruptly with the 5-8, and nothing had been heard since. Jenny head the rumor in the Mess Hall at noon. There was the one rumor, then silence. No one knew or heard anything else. Whatever was happening on the bridge, was being kept there.   
............................ 

The Saratoga November 19, 2063- 1730 hours: 

By dinner time, Jenny couldn't take it any longer, and went to see Commodore Ross. "Sir?" She knocked on his ready room door. 

"Come," he called out as she opened it. "Ahh, Dr. Kirkwood, what can I do for you?" He had left the bridge to get away from Sewell. It was like having a snake on his bridge. Aerotech had its own agenda for being here, and Ross would have liked to figure out what it was. 

"Please, come in and sit down." Ross looked the Doctor over carefully. She looked tired and worried. "Can I offer you something to drink?" He reached for the bottle of rum that was in the cabinet behind him and poured himself a very small amount. 

"Do you have any scotch?" Jenny never drank scotch, but Ty did. She needed something that would bring him closer to her. 

"I happen to keep a bottle here for a friend. I doubt he would mind if I gave you some." Ross smiled as he began to pour. 

"Make it a very small one," Jen held up her hand as he started to pour. 

"What can I do for you, Doctor?" He had an idea she had come to ask about the 58th, but hadn't decided what he was going to say, yet. 

"It's about the mission that left this morning," she held the glass to her nose and inhaled. The scent was so familiar. She remembered the first time she had picked up McQueen's glass to smell his drink. They had been talking in the Asteroid Bar, he had given her an odd look. She had done it countless times since, and he had begun taking it for granted. At times, in the middle of a conversation, he would hand her his glass, knowing that she didn't want to drink it, just to smell it. At first, she assumed it was because she liked to drink cognac, where the scent is a part of the appreciation of the drink. She came to realize that it was just another thing to remind her of the man. "I heard a rumor this afternoon and wanted to verify it with you." 

"What exactly did you hear, Doctor, Jenny, if I may?" Ross hadn't missed the way she had smelled the scotch, nor had he missed the fact that when she had taken a tiny sip it made her eyes water. Scotch wasn't this woman's drink. 

"I heard that the 58th suddenly stopped transmitting, but I've heard nothing since then. Please, Sir," Jen met Ross' gaze. "You assigned me to them. I've come to care about them a great deal. Is there anything you can tell me, Sir?" 

"Commodore Ross?" The door was opened, and Howard Sewell let himself into the Commodore's ready room. "Jennifer, what a nice surprise. I see your taste in men is improving." 

"Mr. Sewell, this is my office. As you can see I am having a meeting with one of my officers, if you'll excuse us?" Ross pointedly stared at the door. 

"Interesting meeting," Sewell cocked his eyebrow, and with a grin left the room. "If you can get it." 

"That snake in geek's clothing!" Jenny rolled her eyes, as the door closed. She would have liked to ask about Sewell's presence on the Saratoga, but it wasn't any of her business. 

Ross leaned back in his chair and laughed. "Jenny, you have summed him up very well. I knew the first time we talked that there was something I liked about you." 

"Is that your polite way of avoiding my question, Sir?" Jenny looked at Ross as she took another sip of her drink. 

"I've been called many thing, but polite isn't always one of them." Ross could see the fear that was in the woman's eyes. She had been hiding it at first, but didn't have the control over her emotions she liked to think she did. "This is my ship, if you were over-stepping your boundaries I would tell you. What I'm about to say is to go no further." 

"Yes, Sir!" Jen gripped her glass, afraid of what she was going to hear. 

"The rumor you heard was correct. The alien ship carrying the 58th did stop transmitting at 1123 hours. According to what we're picking up on LIDAR, the ship was destroyed." Ross watched as Jenny's eyes grew very bright and she quickly blinked back tears. "But it's believed that the crew got away via an escape pod. We are trying to retrieve them now." 

"Damn him!" Jenny never swore, but she was beyond caring. "That idiot! He said that if the mission went bad, they wouldn't need a doctor, so he wouldn't let me go as planned." 

"Back up there, Jenny," Ross was mystified at the outburst. "What is this all about." 

"McQueen," Jen thumped her glass on Ross's desk and began to pace in front of it. "They've crashed on a strange planet, with no medical personnel and I'm stranded here." 

"Col. McQueen was right in not letting you go on this mission, if he hadn't stopped you, I would have." Ross was watching her movements. The sorrow of moments ago turned to anger. "The only reason I gave you the go-ahead in the first place was because I thought your knowledge of the bio-electronics that run that ship, might increase their chances of survival." 

"But, Sir..." 

"Though, I have had the same opinion of Col. McQueen, at times. It is inappropriate for you to speak of him in such a manner." Ross had trouble suppressing a grin, no wonder Ty was in such a rotten mood lately, if he was having to deal with this woman's temper on a regular basis. She was one of the few people he had met in a long time that wasn't intimidated by the Colonel. It must be driving him crazy. 

"Sir, I apologize for my outburst," Jen sighed as she was swamped with sorrow. "But I had to sit on Earth, and watch the battle that killed the Angry Angels, and now this. It's hard!" She returned to her seat across from Ross. "Is there anything I can do to be of help?" 

"Pray, Doctor, pray," Ross looked at the woman in front of him. "I'm sorry about what happened with the 127th, Jenny. I know from experience, that it is harder to sit and wait, than to take part in the action." 

"Thank you, Sir." Jen gripped her hands to keep them from shaking. "Do you have any idea when you'll know something?" 

"We'll be entering the Cerrus System in about an hour," Ross decided he would be truthful with Jen. "We should have a better idea of what to expect when we get there. By the way, the reason we are going after the 58th is because of information brought here by Sewell," she did a classic double take making Ross laugh again. 

"He wouldn't do something like that unless there was something in it for him," Jenny couldn't believe what she was hearing. 

"My sentiments, exactly Doctor. If you should hear anything, I would like you to tell me, and only me." Ross drilled her with his Commodore look. At that moment Jen knew just how alike, McQueen and Ross were. 

"Yes, Sir," Jen stood and headed for the door. "I'll let you get back to business. Thank you for your help, Commodore."   
.............................. 

The battle was raging again, though the ship's guns were strangely silent, for the moment. Jenny had heard the call for fighter squadrons an hour ago and had headed to Sickbay. She was relieved to get out of the empty quarters she shared with the 58th. The room had been big and silent with them still lost on a strange planet. 

She could have waited at the docking bays, with the crowd of others, that had heard the rumor that the Wildcards were being brought back in, but she refused to jinx it. She would wait, in Sickbay. Joan Brill was triage nurse. She would send word as soon as there was information to be had. 

Then the doors to Sickbay flew open, bringing in the Marines. Jenny looked quickly at each face to assured herself that they were still alive. McQueen was being helped by Hawkes. Nathan looked pale and exhausted, as if someone had drained the heart out of him. Shane and Vanessa were holding on to one another as if each was afraid the other would disappear if they let go. Paul walked as if on auto-pilot, not seeing a thing. A deep pain burned into his eyes. 

Jenny met Hawkes as he led the group in. "Over here, on the table," she ordered. She and Hawkes helped a bleeding, limping McQueen onto the exam table. 

"Jen, I'm fine," McQueen tried to sit back up. "I need to take care of Paul......" 

"Oh, no you don't," Jen shook her head as she pushed the exhausted man back down. "We'll take care of everybody, don't worry about that, Colonel." 

"Colonel," Hawkes interjected. "Let Lady-Doc take a look at you." Other medical personnel were scrambling to take care of the other Marines. 

Jen was already wiping away dirt to get a better look at his head wound. "Why are you always leading with your head, Ty? There's just so much banging it can take." Corpsman Trosper was cutting away McQueen's shirt and his right pant leg, so the doctor could get a better look at the damage. 

"Stop," McQueen grabbed for Jen's wrists, but missed, she had anticipated his move and turned away. "I've got more important things to do. You can take care of me later!" 

Jenny turned back toward the man who was fighting to sit up on the bed, but instead of the wet cloth she had had in her hand a moment ago, she'd pulled a hypospray from her pocket. Stepping close, with one arm around his shoulders, she pressed the medication to his neck. "I'm sorry," she whispered as the tranquilizer shot into his system. 

"No!" McQueen gasp in surprise. He felt his body begin to tingle, and grabbed for the front of Jen's scrubs pulling her down with him. "Jen, no!" he gasped as he fought the effects of Sleepez. "Jen, take care of....of....Paul......" he whispered. His eyes not leaving her face, and his hand still curled in the V of her neckline. 

"Shhh Ty, rest," her lips brushed against his ear. One hand moved through his hair and the other covered his hand where he was holding onto her. "I'll take care of him for you, I promise. Stop fighting the drug and sleep. I promise." His eyes met hers one last time before he let the drug take over and passed out. 

"Is he going to be all right Ma'am?" Hawkes looked worried when he saw McQueen lose consciousness. 

"He's going to be fine, Coop." Jen didn't look up, her eyes never leaving the face of the sleeping man whose hand she held pressed against her. "I gave him something to make him sleep, so I could take care of these wounds." 

"He's not going to like that!" Hawkes shook his head. The Lady-Doc had more nerve than he had. 

"No, I don't imagine he will." Jen shrugged her shoulders as she reached for some forceps to begin digging pieces of alien metal out of McQueen's thigh. "Hawkes, get yourself checked out by Commander Brill, I'll finish up here." 

"Dr. Kirkwood," Commodore Ross had come in behind the Wildcards. He had seen the exchange between McQueen and the Doctor, and had been amazed that anyone could sneak up on the Colonel the way Jenny had. He wished he'd been close enough to hear the whispered conversation between the two. "When you're done here, I'd like you to stop by my quarters and give me a report on them. I should be up most of the night, so take your time and do what's needed." 

"Yes, Sir," Jenny looked quickly over her shoulder as she finished working on McQueen's leg. The Corpsman prepping the sleeping man's arm and head. 

Half an hour later Jenny entered the bay where Paul Wang was sitting on the side of the exam table. He had refused to let anyone near him. He sat motionless, lost in thought. 

"Paul," Jen called softly as she came to his side. Her eyes taking in his neat appearance. Something was very wrong here. "Paul, talk to me." 

"Ma'am?" He looked up with a vacant expression on his face. 

"What happened Paul?" Jenny moved closer. "I know you're hurt somewhere. Let me help you?" 

"NO!" Paul wrapped his arms around his body. His eyes filled with anguish. 

"My God, Paul! What happened to you?" His shirt had moved, and Jenny could see burn marks on his throat. She reached for his flightsuit and began unzipping it. 

"No! Go away!" Paul huddled in on himself. "Don't look at me." 

Pulling a chair beside the exam table, Jenny took Paul's face in her hands. "Please Paul, I promised Col. McQueen I'd take care of you. He's very worried about you." 

"The Colonel?" Paul appeared to be in shock. 

"Yes, Paul, he wasn't going to let me take care of him, until you were taken care of. Please, let me get a look at those burns?" Gently Jenny unzipped his flightsuit. 

She gasp in surprise as she looked at Paul Wang's chest and upper arms. He had hundreds of burn marks. Most of them were second and third degree burns. 

"Paul, you should have let us help you sooner. Some of those burns are pretty bad," Jenny shook her head as she started an IV, and began to cover the burns with gel-foam dressings. 

"No one should take care of them," Paul cried out and tried to push Jenny away. 

"Please, I need to cover these so infection won't set in and the gel-foam will help take away the pain." 

"NO!" Paul yelled at her. "I deserve the pain! I earned the pain!" 

"There is nothing you could have done to deserve this," Jen was furious that he had been treated so badly. 

"Don't you understand?" Paul gripped her by the shoulders to keep her away from him. "Don't you understand? I talked. I..... talked. I deserve this and more," tears filled Paul's eyes and he leaned his forehead against Jenny's shoulder and cried. 

"Oh, Paul, no," She held him lightly to her. "You don't deserve this. Shhh. It's all right, you're going to be all right." 

"No, Ma'am." Paul pulled back from her, shaking his head. "I'll never be all right again. They did this to me, until I couldn't take it anymore. Then I...a...I...a..admitted to war crimes that were all a lie." 

"You did what you had to do to stay alive," Jenny touched his face to get his attention. 

"There are worst things than dying," Paul's eyes closed for a moment. "How am I going to face the Colonel?" 

"Paul, he knows and I'm sure he understands." Jenny knew more about McQueen's experiences as a POW, than McQueen realized. She was sure he had been so worried about Paul, because he recognized another wounded spirit when he saw one. Unfortunately, without his permission, it wasn't something she could discuss with Paul. Plus, she thought it would mean more to the young man if it came from the Colonel. 

"Not Colonel McQueen. He'd never break like I did," Paul shook his head. His misery at letting the older man down was as bad as anything he felt. "There is no way he would understand this." 

"That's something you're going to have to talk to him about," Jen finished dressing Paul's burns. "I do know that he would be here right now, if I hadn't hit him with a sleeper. He was very worried about you. He fought the medication I gave him until I promised I'd come in and make sure you were all right." 

"You knocked him out?" Paul almost smiled at the thought of McQueen being subdued by the much smaller doctor, "he's going to be pissed at you." 

"That seemed to be Cooper's reaction, too." Jenny straightened and ran her hand through the young Marine's hair. "I'm going to give you something to help you sleep and take away the pain. In the morning, there will be time enough to start working on what happened. And Paul, I promise you, that you can get over it. It may not be easy, but you will put it behind you." 

Jenny had spent another hour with Paul. He was in bad shape. She could see why McQueen had been worried about him. He was suffering shock and depression. The burns would heal, but the damage done to his self esteem could have long term effects. Paul had been particularly worried about what McQueen would think of his behavior. It was clear that the young man held his commanding officer in high regard.   
........................... 

A few minutes later Jenny found herself knocking on the door to Commodore Ross' quarters. "Come," he called out. 

"You wanted to see me, Sir?" Jenny knew that she felt tired, but the Commodore looked it. 

"Have a seat, Doctor," he indicated the chair opposite his desk. "How are they doing?" 

"I kept them in Sickbay, Sir," Jen explained. "Hawkes, West, Damphousse, and Vansen, could have been discharged, but I wanted to make sure they all slept. Besides, they needed to be re-hydrated and it's easier to do it there. They'll be discharged in the morning. The one who has me worried is Paul Wang." 

"He didn't look good, what happened?" Ross was concerned about the young Marine. 

"He was hurt badly," Jen got up and began to pace. "Paul has what appear to be electrical burns all over his chest and upper arms. They're mostly second and third degree burns." 

"My God!" Ross watched Jenny pace and fidget with her bracelet. "What aren't you telling me, Jenny?" 

"Commodore," she turned, not sure what to say or do. "I can't go over Ty's head about this." 

"Come here and sit down." Ross rose and lead her to a couch where he sat beside her. "Those burns weren't sustained in the crash were they?" 

"Please, Sir, let Ty be the one to talk to you about this?" Jenny's voice cracked. 

Ross reached for her hands and stilled them, "As I told you once before, you need to be careful, or you're going to break that pretty bracelet. Now tell me what happened." He saw the worry in her eyes as she watched him closely. "I have too much respect for Col. McQueen to try to come between the Colonel and his people. Whatever you tell me will remain between us." 

"They tortured Paul, until he broke," Jen sighed. "I shouldn't have given Ty that Sleepez. He knew what had happened, and I think that he may be the only one that can help Paul right now, though, I admit they both need rest at this point more than anything else." 

"Why did you knock the Colonel out?" Ross was sure that Jenny didn't realize that she was using McQueen's first name, as she talked about him. He knew, that she didn't know that he and McQueen were friends. This was the first time in the three weeks she had been on board that she indicated in any way that she had known McQueen before, though anyone who read her service record knew she had been with the Angels. 

"He would have refused care until his squad was taken care of," Jenny shook her head. "I know he wanted to make sure Paul was all right. But, Ty was exhausted. He had blood loss, some metal in his calf and thigh, a gash in his right deltoid, along with a head injury from when the pod crashed. He would have pushed himself until he passed out." 

"I think you have our Colonel pegged. He can be bullheaded when he sets his mind to it," Ross looked Jenny over. "Is that what the two of you were arguing about, when I came in?" 

"We weren't arguing, Sir," Jen looked surprised. "I was giving him my medical opinion and he wasn't agreeing, so I took control of the situation." 

Ross threw his head back and laughed. "I would love to know how you were able to sneak up on that man with a hypospray." 

"I didn't sneak!" Jen looked indignant. 

"All I have to say, is you're damn lucky he didn't break your arm," Ross shook his head, still laughing. The doctor wasn't going to tell him how she got past McQueen's defenses. "He's going to be angry with you in the morning." 

"Commodore, you're the third person to tell me that since it happened," Jenny stood. "This isn't the first time I've had to take matters into my own hands regarding that man's medical needs, and unless you transfer me, I doubt it'll be the last. Doesn't anyone around here ever tell him 'no'?"   
................................... 

Jenny went back to Sickbay for a last check on her patients. Maybe that would help her sleep. Exhaustion hummed in her blood, as she wondered where all this would lead. She had tried sleeping, but had tossed and turned on her bunk. The rest she needed badly, eluding her. 

Checking on McQueen first, she watched him sleep. The effects of the Sleepez keeping him in a resting REM state. He looked at peace. Jen reached out to lightly touched his face. Her hand stopped an inch from his cheek. "*No, I promised, *" she thought. 

As she watched the sleeping man, she let her mind float, moving freely over all that she knew about McQueen and everything that had happened in the last year. Something still wasn't right. "*There's a piece of this puzzle that's missing, but what is it?"* Something had been gnawing at her all day. She had chalked it up to worry for the missing people, but it was more than that. "No?" She whispered quietly as her mind came to rest. "It can't be?" 

"*Ty has changed?"* She felt her stomach clench as she forced herself to look at this new bit of information. He had learned to love, but he didn't love her. "*Why should he be any different from any other man in my life?"* A bitter smile crossed her lips. 

He loved the Wildcards. He really loved them. That's why he went to Kazbek with them. "*McQueen, you and your squad were going to live or die, together. That's what I had wanted to do, but you pushed me out,"* her mind screamed at him. He could no more have sent his squad on that mission without him, then he could stop breathing. McQueen finally let himself love and he was paying the price. Jenny couldn't remember when she had felt more excluded and alone. 

For a moment she was hit by a pang of jealousy. Did he love Vansen or Damphousse? Was he in love with one of those incredible women? No, she dismissed it, as the idea formed. She had seen no signs of it. But what about the missing Wildcard? What was her name, Kelly Winslow? Jenny had seen her picture. She was beautiful. But it still didn't fit. McQueen wouldn't let himself fall in love with a subordinate. Besides, Jen knew the kind of woman Ty liked. She had seen the picture of Amy that still sat on his desk. She had also, seen the way his eyes would follow a certain kind of woman, back in the early days of the Angry Angels. The tall willowy, blond, kind, always well rounded. The kind that none of the Lady 'Cards were. 

"Doctor?" Com. Joan Brill, RN, had been standing in the door of McQueen's room watching Dr. Kirkwood for the last few minutes. She felt a bit like a voyeur. This looked too much like three weeks ago, except it had been the doctor sleeping in that bed and McQueen had been watching over her. 

"Joan," Jen turned and moved out of the room where McQueen was sleeping. "What can I do for you?" 

"You can go and lay down, or I'll hit you with a hypospray of Sleepez." The tall nurse led Jenny down the hall to the room where the Wildcards were recuperating. 

"Something tells me I'm not going to live that one down for a while?" Jenny grinned up at the nurse. 

"That's not true, Doctor. It's Navy one, Marines zero, but whose keeping score?" she laughed. "I think it'll be McQueen who's going to have the 'living down' to do." 

"Oh no," Jenny rolled her eyes. "I thought things that happened in Sickbay were confidential?" 

"They are as far as we are concerned, but you forget, his squad and Commodore Ross saw you take him down." Brill held out an extra blanket for Jenny. "I imagine Ross will razz the Colonel about this for a long time. They've been friends for years." 

"Commodore Ross?...Ross?" Now she knew why that name had seemed so familiar. "Is the Commodore's first name Glen?" 

"Yes, Ma'am," the nurse smiled. "Now, take this blanket and get some sleep. That's an order, Commander to Lieutenant Commander." 

"Oookay," Jen took the blanket from Joan. "I think I'll just sleep for the next year or so, wake me when this all blows over." 

"Sorry, no can do, Doctor," Joan laughed at the younger woman. "Chico Voss will be here bright and early to round and you should be here when he sees the additions you've made to Sickbay." 

Jen stepped into the room that held the sleeping Wildcards. She quietly checked each one before finding an empty bunk and curling up to fall asleep. Her last waking thought before she drifted off was, "*maybe I'll wake up tomorrow and find I dreamed all this.*"   
..................... 

Saratoga Sickbay, November 20, 2063- 0800 

Jenny had been careful to avoid McQueen until after he had had his morning coffee. "*Let Dr. Voss or Dr. Maas catch the brunt of his anger,"* she thought as she finger combed her hair. 

"Good morning, Colonel," Jenny smiled as she walked into his room. One look at his face told her the coffee wasn't going to be enough to prevent an argument. "I've discharged you as of....." 

"Why Jen?" McQueen ground out. "Why did you do it?" He was having problems dealing with the idea that he had let her get past him so easily. 

"We're going to play it like this, are we?" Jenny put down her hand computer, closed and locked the hatch before heading back to McQueen's bedside. 

"This is no game." McQueen's face was stone cold. His eyes frosted over. "Those are my people, my responsibility. You have no right..." 

"No right to do what?" Jenny's anger was a tangible thing. "No right to make sure you're still alive to watch out for them?" 

Someone knocked on the hatch and tried turning the handle to open it. "Stay the hell out of here!" McQueen shouted. He was glad Jen had engaged the lock. They needed to get this settled between them. 

"That's it McQueen, keep shouting. I locked the hatch to try to keep from putting on more of a spectacle than we did last night!" Jen ran her hands through her short curls in frustration. 

"Wang needed me last night. Hitting me with a sleeper was out of line." McQueen's voice was low and cold. 

"No, Ty," Jenny stood over him. "Paul needs you this morning." She poked him in the chest for emphasis. "Last night he needed a doctor, which is what he got." 

"Damn it Jen. You had no right to do what you did." McQueen was cooling off, but he was still angry. He would have liked to pull rank on her, but he was in her Sickbay and it would have done him no good. 

"Ty, listen to me." Jen sat, as she pulled up a chair, still willing to fight, but hoping common sense would reassert itself in the angry Marine. "If I could have been assured that you would have stayed on that gurney and let yourself be treated, there would have been no need for the Sleepez." 

"I would have been fine." McQueen could see the worry in Jen's eyes. "I tried to tell you that last night." 

"No," Jen shook her head. "You wanted your own way last night, and were not about to listen to reason." 

"How would you know what I wanted?" McQueen's eyes flashed fire. "You hit me with that hypospray before I had a chance to talk to you." 

"You forget I've worked with you before," Jen ground out. "You weren't about to listen to reason. You were charging the hill, so I shot you down, before you fell down!" 

"Damn it, Jen! You overstepped your bounds." It was hard on the Colonel's dignity to argue wearing a hospital gown. 

"You had blood loss from the gash in your head." Her hand reached automatically for the dressing. "You were dehydrated, and in case you haven't noticed, there're a number of stitches in your body that weren't there this time yesterday. The odds are very good, that if you had pushed yourself much further, you'd be unconscious right now, and not from a mild sedative!" 

McQueen saw the truth in what Jen was saying. He didn't like it, but there wasn't much he could do about it now. "You've got to promise me this won't happen again!" 

"Listen up, MARINE!" Jen shook her finger at him. "The other night you stopped me from going on a mission I wanted to go on. You were right to do so. I would have been a liability. It tore me apart to stay behind, but I did. You used your professional judgment. Please, trust me enough to let me use mine." 

"Jen, I trust you." McQueen grabbed her finger and pulled her closer to him. "You don't think you would have gotten the hypospray past me if I didn't?" 

"Aahhh, so the truth comes out," Jen smiled. "Now give me back my finger. 

McQueen let go of her, his anger gone, "Pax, Doctor?" He held out his hand. 

"Pax, Colonel," Jen answered as she shook his hand. "Now I better see who has been trying to get in here." She had no illusions that she had reformed the stubborn Marine. His habits of avoiding doctors were too ingrained. 

Still smiling, Jen opened the door to find Commodore Ross leaning against the bulkhead. 

"I was afraid I would find blood all over the floor. I guess you two have settled this between you." Ross smirked as he took in the Doctor's laughing face and watched as McQueen worked to put a frown back on his. 

"I'm going to keep Paul another night, but all of the others have already left, Colonel." Jen was being careful to use his title in front of Ross. "If you have any questions regarding any of the 58th's medical condition, see the nurse at the desk. I'll clear it so you can find out what you need to know. Good-day gentlemen."   
.......................... 

Saratoga December 6, 2063 

The Wildcards' attempted raid on Kazbek put new life back in the men and women on the Saratoga. Commodore Ross was using it to boost moral with other officers on other carriers, as well. McQueen had been right, when he said the chance was worth taking. For the moment, things were peaceful. No one knew if the Chigs were on the run, or if they were waiting out there to ambush them. But after the constant attacks of a few weeks ago, the relative peace was getting on everyone's nerves. 

Jenny had started going to the Tun with the Wildcards in the evenings. It was hard on her, when McQueen began coming as well. Instead of following his old pattern of leaving when she arrived, he was staying and playing poker and having a drink with them. Keeping her end of the deal with the Universe was turning out to be a lot harder than she had thought it would be. 

"Did Collins teach you to bluff like that?" McQueen turned to Jenny with a half smile, after she had won three hands in a row. 

"You don't think we spent all those evenings together talking about guys, watching chik-flicks and eating popcorn, do you?" Jen giggled. She had heard one of the Angels saying just that, about the evenings Gloria, Jenny and sometimes Mai-Lee, the other female Angel, spent together. "Besides, how do you know I didn't teach Collins a few things?" 

"That'll be the day!" McQueen picked up his scotch, took a drink and handed it to her. 

"I think I've just been insulted," Jenny laughed as she turned in her seat and faced McQueen. She smelled the scotch, then put it back on the table. The movement between the two so natural, neither realized they had done it. 

"What do you guys think?" Jen turned to the Marines at the table. They had seen the casual by-play between the man and woman and weren't sure what to make of it. 

"If I can't win," Wang filled the silence. "I'm just glad it's someone other than Vansen or Hawkes doing the winning." 

That night as Jenny lay in bed, she heard the quiet whispering between Vansen and Damphousse. 

"Shane," 'Phousse quietly slipped down from her bunk. "You awake?" 

"Shhhh." Vansen looked closely at the bunk across from hers, but Jenny appeared to be sleeping. "Did you see what happened in the Tun?" 

"What was that all about?" 'Phousse sat at the foot of her friends bunk. 

"It was like they had know each other for years," Shane shook her head. "That bit with McQueen's drink? I would swear neither of them was aware that they did it. And McQueen always knows what he's doing." 

"And who the hell is Collins?" 'Phousse touched her jaw, remembering a bar fight in basic training, "the only Collins I remember was that Amazon with the Angry Angels. Somehow I can't picture her partying with the Lady-Doc." 

Jenny lay in her bunk and gritted her teeth. Had she smelled his drink like she used to do in the old days? She couldn't remember. "*I've got to find a way to put some distance between myself and McQueen until I can get my balance back,*" Jen thought. 

The next day a chance presented itself. When the transport arrived from the Clara Barton, the transport doctor was sicker than any of the people he had come to pick up. He had a high fever and acute lower right quadrant abdominal pain. Classic symptoms of appendicitis. Chico Voss removed Dr. Mason's appendix, while Jenny got permission to cover for the ill doctor. 

Two hours after his surgery, Mason was a patient on his own shuttle, along with the eight wounded, going back to the Clara. Jenny went with them in his place. The trip that was scheduled to last for two days dragged out to over a week, due to heavy fighting breaking out again. Jen was forced to pace the Clara between time spent helping in surgery. All the transports were needed in other areas. It would be a while before she made the return trip.   
.......................... 

Saratoga, December 25, 2063 - 0330 

It had been a long twenty-four hours. If McQueen was honest with himself, he would admit it had been a long month. Three times now, he thought he had lost all, or almost all, of the 58th. He could understand why most in-vitros were loners. It made life so much easier, than this caring. 

It had started with Kazbek, but at least that time he had been with them. Then there was two weeks ago, when Nathan was the only one to come back from a mean little planet that was eating troops as fast as they could be sent in. The Wildcards had gone in to take supplies and evac wounded. West had come back to the Saratoga, alone, out of his head from injuries and ranting about 'staying with the dead.' It had taken McQueen three days to come to his senses and believe the young man wasn't delusional. He hated to think how close he had come to losing all five Marines, who were becoming so important to him. Four of them dead on an enemy held planet, and Nathan a living dead man, with his long-term memory surgically excised. 

Jenny Kirkwood had been stuck on the Clara when Nathan was brought to Sickbay, and doubt and guilt had plagued McQueen. Doubt as to trusting a doctor that wasn't Jen, and guilt, because he wanted to believe so badly that the other Wildcards were alive, even though he had stood at attention at a memorial service for them and felt the first tears to ever form in his eyes. "*This is what happens when I care,*" he thought as he straightened the tie of his dress uniform shirt, before heading to the Christmas party in the Mess Hall. 

He had been robbed of his customary ability to make quick decisions. He wondered which decision he would have made, if caring hadn't gotten in the way? Would he have said 'shove it' to the doctor and sent troops in after the 'Cards three days earlier than he did, or would he have turned his back on Nathan, and lost them all? 

Last night he was faced with another such decision. This time he was quicker to listen to the strange new voice in him. The squad's ISSCV had taken fire during a battle. He alone, had believed them alive. All he had to go on was faith and the knowledge that the ISSCV radio was receiving. His belief had paid off. The Wildcards had been recovered hours later, caught in the tail of a comet. 

"*Caring is hard, but it has its advantages,*" he remembered the times in the last weeks when he had put to use the lesson he had learned from Jenny that night before Kazbek. He had been able to give and receive comfort to Nathan as the young Marine fought to remember what had happened to his friends. Numerous times McQueen, had grasped Nathan's hand or shoulder. A reaching out of survivors, the exchange of comfort that only those who understood can give. 

And today, he had played 'interstellar disk jockey.' Something he never would have done. It was a way to reach out to his kids. He couldn't touch them, but he hoped his voice did. Then there was Ross, he smiled as he remembered, the feel of Glen Ross' hand gripping his shoulder as news of the 58th's recovered ISSCV, came over the radio.   
  
Glen had used that gesture a number of times, over the years. McQueen had always found it an intrusion on his personal space, but had never said anything, because Glen was his friend. McQueen had felt that it was something that Ross needed to do, now he understood that it was something that was needed by both of them.   
........................ 

Saratoga Mess Hall December 25, 2063- 0400 hours: 

Jenny was running very late for the Christmas party, but it was still going strong when she arrived. The fighting in the last twenty-four hours had kept the Medical Corps working overtime, but Sickbay was under control, so shifts were back to normal. Looking around she saw the Wildcards in a group by the Christmas tree. McQueen and Ross were over by a window talking. Someone handed her a light blue drink. She sniffed it, expecting to smell Bombay Sapphire, then giggled to herself, at her reaction. She knew it was the bottle that made that brand of gin appear blue. Instead of the crisp juniper berry scent of gin, Jenny smelled a spicy fragrance, she couldn't place. "*Oh, well, nothing ventured, nothing gained,*" she thought as she took a sip. 

McQueen put his two Christmas presents in his pocket and moved to the windows were Jen was standing. He had seen her work her way around the edge of the crowd, when he was talking to Ross. 

"How are the new quarters working out?" McQueen came up behind her. Winslow had returned to the Saratoga ten days earlier, and Ross had moved Jen to the empty quarters, two units down from McQueen's. Until they heard from General Savage, both McQueen and Ross were worried that Jen could have made herself some enemies before leaving Earth, and they wanted her where she was close under hand. 

"Fine," Jen shrugged. "I hear you had a rough day, Ty. I'm glad to see that everything turned out all right." She looked over his shoulder toward the 58th. 

"Yours doesn't look to have been too much easier," he used his glass to point at the left breast pocket of her lab coat, where her watch and bracelet were still pinned. She had been in surgery recently, or she would have been wearing them. 

"Ohh, thanks," looking down, she undid the large pin and slipped her watch on, but fumbled the bracelet. McQueen was quicker than she, and caught it. 

"Here, let me help you," he offered as he fastened it around her left wrist. "Merry Christmas, Jen." 

"Merry Christmas, Ty," for a moment, Jen was taken back a year ago, to when he had given her the bracelet. "This is sure different from last Christmas, isn't it?" 

"Have you heard from Patsy at all?" Ty was worried about the in-vitro woman who meant so much to Jen. "After last year, I hate to think of her spending the day alone." 

"I didn't tell you, did I?" Jenny laughed. She had been trying to keep a distance between them, for her own comfort's sake, but he did deserve to hear this. "My footlocker arrived from the Air Force the other day, along with a package from Patsy. There were three letters in the package. Two from Patsy and one from General Savage." 

"General Savage?" McQueen had been hoping to hear from him, but hadn't so far. Jen getting a personal letter from the General didn't sit well with him. 

"Patsy is spending Christmas with General...no, excuse me, with FRANK." Jen began to giggle harder. "It was Frank this and Frank that. And the General's letter told me what a wonderful lady Patsy is, and how thoughtful it was of her to invite him to the Island for Christmas. He had gone to see her after leaving rehab. I guess, to let her know I was all right and one thing seems to have led to another." Jenny couldn't stand it any longer and was laughing openly. 

"Are we talking about the same General Savage?" McQueen grinned, feeling a weight lifted from him. Savage was interested in Patsy, not Jen. 

"The one and only," Jen laughed harder. "Old fire and brimstone, I don't trust in-vitros Savage, is interested in Patsy!" Jen was laughing so hard her eyes teared. "The irony. Yes, I love it!" 

"Poor Patsy, hell, poor Savage," McQueen joined in the laughter. "Patsy is quite a woman, he doesn't stand a chance." 

"Can you think of a stranger pair?" Jen wiped the happy tears from under her eyes. 

"Well..." McQueen had a flash, then it was gone. It happened so fast, it refused to stick in his mind. "No I guess I can't." 

"Colonel? Dr. Kirkwood?" West had come to find them. It had been a pleasure to watch them silhouetted against the window, laughing. For a moment it took the war far away. "We've got a present for the Doctor, from the Wildcards." 

"Oh, guys, that's so sweet," Jen sighed, "but I don't have anything for you." 

"What you did for us when we came back from Kazbek," Paul looked her in the eyes. "Well Ma'am, consider that your present to us, besides, this is something you should have had a while ago." 

Kelly Winslow handed Jen a small package, "open it up. We hope you like it," she smiled. 

Jen's hands shook, as she opened the package. Inside she found two patches, a 58th squadron patch and the patch with the Wildcards' flushed out cards. 

"Oh, thanks guys," she moved around the group giving them each a hug. When she got to McQueen, she froze for a moment, then gave him a quick hug and stepped back. 

"Those are for your lab coat, Ma'am," Coop indicated the coat she was wearing over her scrubs. "We've got some others for you to put on fatigues, for missions." 

"Well that makes it official, I'm a Wildcard," Jen giggled. 

"There's one other thing, if you're a Wildcard, you need a call sign," McQueen hoped they were doing the right thing. He knew the 58th wanted to make her feel like part of them. He hoped Jen was ready for this.   
  
"A call sign?" Jen held her breath. What was McQueen trying to pull? He knew she already had one, though she kept it locked away in her heart. 

"Lieutenant Commander Jennifer Kirkwood, let it be know from this day forward, you are named, Lady-Doc," McQueen spoke softly. He saw the relief flood her face. 

"Thank-you," Jen mouthed silently to McQueen. "Thanks all of you. I'd like to propose a toast," holding up her glass. "To missing friends," she clinked her glass against McQueen's, then turned toward the six young Marines, "and to those who have been returned to us." 

Jen slipped out of the Mess Hall a few minutes later. 

"Jen, I'm headed that way, myself," McQueen called after her, matching his steps to hers as they walked toward their quarters. 

"Thanks, Ty," Jen spoke softly. "Especially for the new call sign. Angel-Doc died the night the Angry Angels did." 

"We're not ALL dead, Jen," Ty reached in his pocket. "I was going to give you this, but I wanted to do it in private." He handed her an Angry Angel patch. "It's your choice if you wear it, but remember, 'not even death can defeat an Angry Angel.'" 

"Gloria used to tell me that," Jen smiled at the memory. "Before you guys would climb into your cockpits, she'd look at me and say 'don't worry Angel-Doc, not even death can defeat an Angry Angel.' Then she would give me that grin of hers and stride off as if the universe was her own personal playground." 

"I think she thought it was. Hell, we all did, until we went up against the Chigs," McQueen shook his head. "Did you know the Corps retired the Angels? After you and I, there will be no more Angry Angels." 

"I didn't know," Jen shook her head. "But Ty, I was never really an Angel." 

"Yes you were, and don't ever let anyone tell you that you weren't," they had been standing beside her door for a while now. "I know you miss Gloria, but she went the way she would have wanted to, taking out the two Chigs that had blown Lt. Col. Smyth's plane out of the sky." 

"You guys knew, all along, about them?" Jenny was shocked. "And on three different missions you let Gloria and I play switch the bunk, for your entertainment and joy?" 

"I'm not sure what the others thought, but they knew you were helping cover for Collins and Smyth," McQueen shrugged his shoulders. "We all thought too much of the Colonel, to not keep it between ourselves. I figured that it must have been something special, because if it had been just another fling, you wouldn't have covered for Collins, no matter how good a friend she was." 

"It was special, Ty," Jen smiled sadly. "I'm not sure it started out that way, but it was special. They're dead now, so I guess it doesn't matter if I tell you. The Colonel asked Gloria to marry him last April. They were going to elope this Christmas." 

"You're kidding me?" McQueen couldn't believe what he was hearing. "It would be disastrous for both their careers. It was bad enough they were having an affair." 

"I know, I know, but they were going to do it anyway," Jen laughed. "I remember the night he proposed. Gloria showed up at my door after midnight, ranting and raving, it took me twenty minutes to calm her down enough to find out what had her so upset." 

"Didn't she want to marry him?" McQueen was confused. 

"Very much so," Jen explained. "Too much so. It took her a week to calm down and agree. The Colonel wanted the commitment that went with marriage. She was scared to death of it, but wanted it as badly as he did. In the end, they decided to just roll the dice. They planned to keep it a secret for as long as possible. Unfortunately, this war broke out and instead of a wedding there was a memorial service." 

They heard voices coming from around the bend in the corridor. "I really need to get some sleep," Jen keyed her code into her door. "Merry Christmas, Ty and thank you for the gifts." 

"Merry Christmas, Jen," McQueen moved to his own door. "Remember what I said. You are an Angry Angel." He was keying in his code as two officers walked past. He must have been more tired than he thought. He was usually more careful, than to be seen outside his quarters with a natural born woman.   
........................... 

The Saratoga December 25, 0510 

After leaving Ty standing in the hall, Jenny was left with an empty feeling. The last few hours had been a test of the walls she rebuilt while on the Clara. She was proud of herself for being able to carry on as his friend, and just that. She had been distancing herself from everyone on board in a subtle attempt to keep away from McQueen. 

Carefully laying out the patches she had been given tonight she ran her fingers over each one. Spending extra time on the familiar wings and halo, that she had worn for almost a year. She wanted very badly to wear that patch, again. But knew that doing so would cause too many questions. Ones, that she wasn't up to answering at present. "I'll honor you my own way, let Ty think what he wants," Jenny spoke quietly.   
..............................   
  
Earth January 3, 2064- Aerotech Headquarters 

Howard Sewell hummed to himself as he walked to the lab from his office. He couldn't believe his good fortune. He had followed a rumor he had heard over a month ago, using vacation time and a bluff to get back on the Saratoga. He had ended up with the 21st Century equivalent of black gold. Always before, he was being pushed out. Intelligent enough to do their research and even get a foothold on the bottom rung of the Board of Governors, but never quite good enough to move to the inner circle of Aerotech. This discovery of his would be the making of him. 

Though it was being kept under heavy security, they were already calling it Sewell Fuel. He laughed as the name ran off his tongue. He had a meeting with E. Allan Wayne, head of the Board in an hour. In that meeting he planned to map out his future with Aerotech. 

An hour after Sewell's meeting with Wayne, another meeting took place. E. Allan Wayne was having a private conversation with Carleton Stryker. Stryker had entered unseen through the underground entrance two miles from the compound that was Aerotech's main building. He was angry that the need for this meeting existed, and the timing couldn't have been worse. Stryker was living a very public life since his engagement to Diane Hayden. He found it cramped his style a bit, but it was necessary until he and Diane had the power base securely under them, then damn the world and what it thought. 

"How did this happen, Allan?" Stryker kept his voice even. For the moment he needed Wayne, but in the not to distant future that would be rectified. 

"Sewell is smart, smarter than we gave him credit for." Wayne was worried, but he didn't want Stryker to know it. "And he is a scientist." 

"Can he be managed?" Stryker needed to know what damage control measures needed to be taken and how fast they needed to be implemented. 

"Howard, is a greedy son-of-a-bitch, that'll work in our favor." Wayne was tallying all he knew and had learned, about the man, in the last few weeks since Sewell returned with the Fuel whose existence had started a war. 

"How much do you think he knows?" Stryker was beginning to relax, he knew how to deal with greed. 

"For a man with his IQ, he can be foolish," Wayne assured Stryker. "All he can see is the glory and money from the small find he has in a suitcase. He has no idea of the scope or the power he has stumbled onto." 

"He was involved on the Tellus Project, wasn't he?" Stryker ground his teeth as Wayne nodded in the affirmative. "Is he smart enough to put two and two together and come up with Sewell Fuel?" 

"No, Sir," Wayne assured the other man. "Tellus and Vesta were kept compartmentalized. Workers from each project were kept separate, and then moved to facilities at opposite ends of the country." 

"If things are as you say, we should be all right. In fact, we may be able to use Sewell at some point down the line. Keep me posted, on this Allan." Stryker shook hands and left as he had come. He hated to do it, but he might have to bring Diane in on this. She had contacts with the AI's. When Sewell was eliminated, it needed to be done off of Earth, and in such a way that it could never be traced back to them.   
............................... 

Saratoga January 3, 2064 

Jenny had been called to Commodore Ross' office after her shift. She had been on her feet all day, and would have loved to get some food, but the young Marine who had brought the message had said it was important, so here she was. When she was let into the office, she discovered that McQueen was there as well. Something was wrong she could tell by the lack of expression on both men's faces. 

"What's wrong? Is it Patsy? Ty, did something happen to her?" Frightened, Jenny didn't even acknowledge either of the senior officers as she knew she should have. 

"No, Jen, she's fine," McQueen took her arm and lead her to the chair across from Ross. 

"I'm sorry Jenny, we didn't mean to scare you," Ross smiled, dismayed that he had been read so easily. "But there is a problem we need to talk to you about." 

"Just as long as Patsy is okay," Jen smiled at McQueen. "She's the only one who ever...well I love her and want her safe." 

"I received an encrypted message from Frank Savage today," Ross wasn't sure how to continue so he fell back on Commodore mode. "We have been a little less then honest with you Dr. Kirkwood." 

"About what, Sir?" Jen had a feeling she wasn't going to like this. 

"After we took you off Kordis, the General asked me to keep you here," Ross watched Jen's face. "He was, and still is, very worried about you. It appears, that you and the doctors you worked with at the In-Vitro Health Facility made some powerful enemies." Ross could see realization dawn on Jenny's face. "In this message, from the General, it's confirmed that as of late in November, you're the only one of your group still alive." Ross never took his eyes off the woman on the other side of his desk, gaging her reaction 

"I knew about Carmine Delaney. I got a telegram. He had no family," Jen spoke softly, hardly breathing. "The others, what happened?" 

"Here, Jen," McQueen held out his glass of scotch. Her hand curled lightly over his and she took a deep breath. "No Jen, drink it." McQueen was relieved when she did as he ask. It brought some of the color back that had been washed out of her face a moment ago. 

"Carmine died in a war zone," Jen's voice cracked. "Did they all die like that? Was I meant to die on Kordis?" 

"Dr. Kirkwood, they all died with honor, and for Earth," Ross could see Jenny getting her balance back. "We have no proof that's why you were on Kordis, but it's what General Savage, Col. McQueen and I, believe, in light of what we have just found out." 

"You'll have to excuse me, Commodore," Jen got up and began to pace as she fidgeted with her bracelet. "I don't understand what's going on here. Why should a General, a Commodore and a Lieutenant Colonel, concern yourselves with one doctor in the middle of this big war?" She stopped for a moment to catch her breath, as her temper built. "And why wasn't I told what was going on. I realize this may have been on a need-to-know basis, but don't you think I needed to know?" 

"Sit back down, Lieutenant Commander," Ross indicated her chair with his eyes. 

"Yes, Sir, " Jen sat as the energy and temper left as quickly as it had hit her. "I apologize. I was out of line." 

"Apology accepted," Ross smiled at her as he leaned across his desk. "There is more to this. A lot of it is still classified, but I'll answer any questions I can." 

"I know that the General tried to get me transferred off Kordis, but it didn't work." Jen took a deep breath not wanting to hear the answer to her next question, but needing to ask it. "Was I assigned to the 58th so I would be in a unit that was seeing action?" 

"Yes," Ross told Jenny the truth. "When the General tried to get you off of Kordis, he was told to keep you in a forward duty area. Frank had me do a bit of checking and that was the response I got as well. If I had assigned you to the Saratoga Sickbay, like as not, new orders would have come in and you could very well be dead. The 58th was a logical conclusion. Your speciality is in-vitro medicine, both Col. McQueen and Lt. Hawkes are in-vitros, and the 5-8 sees a lot of action. We fix it so you go with them often enough to make it work." 

"So this was all a lie?" Jenny was surprised at the pain she felt. "All of you, the Wildcards, you were all just playing along?" She was no stranger to feeling like an outsider, but this cut deep. 

"No, Jen, it's not what you think," McQueen reached for the hand that was toying with her bracelet, and grasp it to get her attention. "It isn't a lie. You are as much a part of the Wildcards as you were of the Angry Angels. And the kids never knew. Everything they did was because they wanted to. We aren't going to tell them. The fewer people who know the better." 

After carefully looking McQueen in the eyes, Jen smiled and squeezed his hand as she pulled free, "thanks, Ty." Turning to Ross, she bit her lip, feeling lost and alone. "Do you have any idea who is behind all of this?" 

"I don't, and if the General does, he isn't saying, at the moment," Ross was worried, but didn't want to let Jenny know that. "This may take time to resolve. Anyone with the power to do what has been done, is someone who must be handled with care." 

"We don't have to worry about people around me being in danger, do we?" Jenny had a vision of the Saratoga going up in a ball of fire. 

"I don't believe we do," it was a small lie, and Ross hoped she would forgive him if it ever came out. 

"That's a relief," Jen took a deep breath. "I would appreciated being kept up to date on any further news you have regarding this." 

"Anything that isn't classified, will be passed on to you," Ross assured her. 

Jen was half-way to the door, when a thought struck her. "That's why the General went to Catalina before Christmas. He was checking to make sure my family was safe." 

"It's a pretty good guess," McQueen nodded. 

"He's not playing games with Patsy, is he?" The fire was returning to her eyes. 

"Frank Savage is an honorable man," Ross smiled. "He asked me to tell you 'thank you, and not just for the good medical care,'" Ross added, causing both McQueen and Jenny to laugh. 

"You explain it to him, Ty, I need to get some food. If that's all, Sir?" Jen smiled as she left the Commodore's office. 

"She catches you by surprise doesn't she?" Ross shook his head as Jenny left. "She can be such a tiger. To see her like that, it reminds you she's a woman." 

"Losing the 127th was hard on her," McQueen stood as he finished his drink. Everything about Jen reminded him that she was a woman. 

"Ty, you lost them too," Ross watched his friend. 

"It was the way she lost them that makes it so much worse for her," McQueen sighed. "She had to sit on Earth and watch the battle. I was fighting along with them. Besides, her relationship was different with them, than mine was. Assigning Jen to the 58th reminds her of it all the time. Ever since I refused to let her go to Kazbek, there has been a sadness about her. She's been keeping people at a distance, that's out of character for her."   
............................   
  
The Saratoga February 2, 2064 

Between November and early January, Sickbay had been over-run with wounded. Jenny didn't think things could get any worse, but she was wrong. Suddenly, instead of causalities, there was almost no one to take care of. Hammerheads were being destroyed on a daily basis. No one knew what was going on, but when squads went out, they didn't always return. When they returned, they were usually missing a number of planes. Rumors were everywhere, but no fact. Added to that, the Saratoga was becoming a focal point for the entire 5th Marine Air Calvary Division. 

The only good thing about the quiet time in Sickbay, was that Jenny and Chico Voss were finally able to come to terms with one another. That morning she had cornered the tall sandy-haired doctor and hashed it out with him. For the last two months, he had been taking pot-shots at her because of her in-vitro rights stance. In the end they agreed to leave politics out of Sickbay, and to agree to disagree. It had been easier than she had expected, but since working together, they had a grudging respect for the other's abilities and both wanted to keep the peace during the long hours that they were forced into each other's company. Over lunch they discovered they shared a passion for backgammon. Chico pulled out his board and they spent the afternoon rolling the dice. 

When Jenny went to the Tun that evening, it was more crowded than usual. The male Wildcards were in what looked like a very serious poker game with some pilots from another unit. Shane was at the bar with a handsome young man and Vanessa and Kelly were at a table in the corner having a drink. Jenny's plans to stay only a few minutes were put aside, when Kelly Winslow learned that the squad she had been on loan to before Christmas, had died that day. The entire 42nd squadron was wiped out, with no explanation. 

Three days later the ship was in shock. The reports of an alien super-fighter were substantiated. Hammerheads were still being blown from the sky, and there was fear on everyone's face. More pilots had been lost when 15 squads went out hunting the fighter that was being called Chiggy Von Richthofen, named after the German WWI flying ace. One of those pilots, was Cpt. John Oakes, Shane's high school sweetheart. 

Late that night, Shane Vansen knocked on Jenny Kirkwood's door. Shane had spent the last hours 'fighting the inevitable.' She was tired and confused. At first it had seemed easy, just deny that John was dead. Pretend he was on a mission and would be home the next day or the day after. But the more Shane looked at the alien moon out of the window of the Tun, the more she knew that wasn't the problem that was eating at her. The Doctor had been a big help to Paul, after Kazbek, maybe she could help Shane. 

"Come on in, Shane," Jenny opened the door for the younger woman. "Have a seat. Would you like a drink? I'm getting myself one." 

"Sure, what ever you have," Shane shrugged her shoulders, looking around the small quarters that the Doctor had been moved to. 

"You were an Angry Angel?" Shane looked with surprise, at the insignia on the foot locker Jenny had pulled out from under her bunk. 

"Yes, I was assigned to them for almost a year." Jen mentally kicked herself for not being more careful, as she dug in the footlocker for the bottle of cognac and snifters, that Patsy had sent her. "Here we go, this is what I was looking for." She poured the deep amber liquid into the bottom of each balloon shaped glass and handed one to Shane. 

"Mmm, this is nice," Shane tasted the smoothness of the cognac. 

"Now, sit down and talk to me." Jenny put pillows behind herself, and sat Indian style on her bunk, leaving the one chair for Shane. "I was sorry to hear about Cpt. Oakes." 

"Thanks," Shane reached for a tissue that Jen had on her desk, then pulled out the telegram that McQueen had brought her a few hours earlier in the Tun. "He's dead, and there are so many unanswered questions." 

"Why don't you start at the beginning," Jen suggested as she took a sip of her drink. 

Shane told Jenny about dating John all through high school. How they had both dreamed of being Marine pilots someday. John was in the class ahead of Shane's. When she had been finishing her senior year in high school, John was at Loxley doing basic, then was stationed on the moon for extended survival training. 

"Then at my senior prom, he proposed," Shane could still remember how surprised she had been. "I told him no, not yet, but worst of all I told him I didn't believe in forever." 

"Let me see if I understand this?" Jenny leaned forward. "You were 18 and he was 19? He asked you to marry him and you asked for more time? You wanted him to ask you again in a few years? Am I understanding it correctly?" 

"Yes, but it was more than that," Shane needed for Jenny to understand how she had hurt John. "When I told him I didn't believe in forever, it did something to him. It was like I was saying I didn't believe in us."   
"I still don't see why you are taking the blame for this." Jenny watched Shane fidget with things on her desk. "You asked for more time, to grow up a bit. You weren't saying you didn't love him." Jen probed a bit deeper, "did you really not believe in forever?" 

"No I didn't," Shane bit her lip. "I'm still not sure I do." 

"Would you have wanted to start off a marriage with a lie?" Jenny pushed a bit harder. "Do you really think the two of you would have been happier that way?" 

"Have you ever been in love, Lady-Doc?" Shane shot back, confused, and hating that Jenny was making sense. 

"Yes," Jenny admitted quietly. 

"You're not wearing a ring of any kind, is he dead?" Shane was curious. She had come to Jenny for advice on love and wanted to know if the woman knew what she was talking about. 

"No, he's not dead," Jenny gave thanks she could answer her question that way. "He doesn't love me back, that's all," she shrugged. 

"And you just gave up like that?" Shane had always been a fighter, she couldn't imagine just letting a man walk away from her. 

"You can't force love, Shane," Jenny smiled at the younger woman. "Besides, he likes his women, tall, very blond, and very curvy. That's not me. Well I'm sort of blond, but not like he likes them." 

"The pig," Shane was slightly taller than Jenny and was highly insulted that a man would turn down a woman because of a superficial thing height. 

"I can drink to that," Jenny touched her snifter lightly to Shane's as she fought a laugh. Shane would die if she knew she had just drunk a toast calling her commanding officer a pig. 

"I really did love him, Dr. Kirkwood," Shane had finished her drink and put her glass down. 

"Do you think that might be the problem? You cared deeply for each other, at one time? From what you tell me, you had both moved on." Jen watched Shane as she digested what was being said. "Now he's dead, on a mission you were both flying. That can be a lot to take all at once." 

"You're saying I'm feeling survivor guilt?" Shane didn't think it was that easy. 

"That, and more," Jenny began to pace the small cabin. "Some people believe that love never really dies, it's you that changes. When that happens, one of two things take place. Love changes with you and remains strong and firm, a deep part of you, with very deep roots. If the love doesn't change, it becomes a caring, a fondness, something that was. Maybe, something that's always with you, but a thing of the past. I think, you need to ask yourself if you are mourning the loss of a boy who was a sweetheart, or a man who had the potential to be a lifetime partner?" 

"When you put it that way, I just don't know," a last tear slipped down Shane's face. 

"There's also, the issue about loving forever. You were 18 years old, that's very young to think in terms of forever. He was asking a lot of you, of anyone, for that matter. One can say, 'I love you today,' and 'I'll probably love you tomorrow,' but to be asked to commit to forever?" Jenny shook her head. "Things change, people change."   
  
"Jenny, the man you told me about earlier, the one you love," Shane was remembering stories that Jen had told on Kordis. Stories of a Marine pilot who had died. Something didn't fit? "How long have you loved him?" 

"For longer than I care to admit," Jenny tried very hard to keep the sorrow out of her face. "I didn't realize it showed." 

"Do you think you'll stop loving him?" 

"I don't know, but I hope so, Shane. Please, I can't talk about him, I'm sorry," Jenny stood and looked out her small porthole. 

As Shane looked carefully at the Doctor, she wondered how she had missed the haunted look that was in the older woman's eyes. Had it always been there, or was Jenny very good at hiding it? 

"Are you saying that you don't believe in forever, either?" Shane wondered why the older woman's stance seemed so familiar. She knew she had never watched Jenny watch the stars before. 

"No.....wait, wait," Jenny turned and began to pace. "I owe you better than that. What I said about forever, it's a pat, easy answer. Something I read somewhere. I can only tell you what I know. What I've.....felt." Jenny returned to the porthole watching the stars that blurred as tears filled her eyes. 

"Jenny," Shane could feel the older woman's pain and would have done anything, in that moment, to make it go away. "Please, you don't have to do this." 

"I want to." Jenny turned, her eyes still bright with tears, but her emotions under control. "Sometimes, forever never comes." Jen smiled slightly, gently caressing the gold chain on her left wrist. "Because there is never enough time. There is only the present and in a second it's gone. If you're very lucky, all those seconds add up to days, months and years, but it's never long enough. Never enough time for all the love you feel." She dropped her hands and was seeing something far off in the distance. "But here is the irony of the whole thing. If you're not so lucky, all the seconds mean nothing, just an endless road of living a life that should have been different. That's when you learn about the hellish side of forever." 

"Then how do you know what to do, who to choose?" Shane was more confused than before. 

"Remember when I said, you can't force love?" Jenny took the last swallow of her cognac and looked at the light through the cut crystal snifter. "You can't make someone love you and you can't make yourself love someone else, no matter how perfect he would be for you." 

"So you're saying that love does the choosing?" Shane whispered. 

"Very well put!" Jenny smiled. "I've got an idea, ask yourself two questions. First, did you love John the best you could for as long as you could? Second, when you were with John you knew you'd have good times and bad; but were your bad times with him, better than your good times with anyone else? Think about when he proposed to you, and think about now. Can you ask yourself those two questions, about both times in your life, and come up with the same answer?" 

"I....don't think I can," Shane looked deep in herself as she leaned on Jenny's desk. 

"Then I think you answered your own question," Jenny rubbed Shane's arm as she talked. "Don't worry about forever. Someday a man will come alone, and you won't even remember the word. You'll just know that what you have is good and right. What you are feeling then, will be so much a part of your being that forever is a moot question. Which is a much less sloppy way of saying what I said before." 

"Thank you, Dr. Kirkwood," as Shane turned, her elbow knocked over a picture on the Doctor's desk, automatically, the Marine picked it up to put it back where it was. She stared at what she saw. "You really were with the Angry Angels, weren't you?" 

"Yup," Jen reached for the picture, but Shane held it firmly in her hand. "We were pretty drunk when that was taken. They took me out for my birthday, last spring." 

"I know this woman," Shane pointed to Gloria Collins. "I can't remember her name, but she has a mean right hook and a mouth that causes her to use it on a regular basis." 

"Her name is Gloria Collins, and she is,.. was one of my best friends. I gather the two of you had a run in somewhere along the line," Jenny laughed, knowing her friend's habits in the Asteroid Bar. 

"When we were in basic, we were stationed at Loxley," Shane thought back to that night in the bar. "It was the night we learned about Tellus and Vesta being destroyed. The Wildcards, were in a bar fight with the Angels, when Chartwell come on with the announcement. I hadn't thought about that in a long time." 

Jenny picked up a small velvet Victorian shoe, that was about two inches long. "She gave me this for Christmas last year." 

"It's beautiful," Shane reached for the delicate shoe. "It's hard to believe the same woman who we fought with that night, would pick out something so pretty. She always seemed so tough." 

"A lot of that was an act." Somehow talking to Shane, made Jenny miss her friend a bit less. "She was a farm girl from Kansas, who had flying in her blood. Would you believe she had a shoe fetish?" 

"No way!" 

"Oh yes," Jenny took back the little shoe and put it where she had gotten it. "That was the beginning of our friendship. We both loved to do battle at shoe sales." 

"I joined the Marines because I wanted to be an Angry Angel," Shane confided. "Would you tell me about this picture." 

"That's me, and you know the Colonel, though he was a Major then," Jenny smiled and laughed. "We really were drunk. That's Gloria. I had to hold on to her tightly, she was more interesting in dancing on the table than having this picture taken. Lt. Col. Philip Smyth, commander of the Angels, is standing behind Gloria." Jenny wondered if Shane saw the possessive way Smyth had placed his hands on Gloria's shoulders. "In the back is Webb, McDougall, Watts, Mai-Lee Chin and Person." 

"Now there's only the two of you." Shane looked at the picture in her hand and up at Jenny. Maybe it was a trick of the light? No, Shane couldn't be seeing what she thought she was seeing. It was just two slightly drunk people grinning at each other. 

"Pardon?" Jenny was caught off guard. 

"You and McQueen, the last two Angels," When she was younger, Shane had read everything there was to be found on the 127th. "I remember reading somewhere that once a Marine was an Angry Angel, they're an Angel forever." 

"You forget, I'm Navy," Jen smiled, hoping that would end this discussion. "Besides I am a doctor, not a pilot. I was assigned to them as part of an experimental program." 

"From this picture it looks like they thought you were very much a part of them," Shane held the picture up for Jenny to take a good look at it. 

"For almost a year I was an Angry Angel," Jenny sighed. "If I hadn't been on sick leave, and had gone on the Yorktown with them that last time, then, maybe I would still be one of them." Jenny's voice cracked as she talked to Shane. She was able to tell her things that she couldn't even tell McQueen. 

"If you had been on the Yorktown, you'd be dead," Shane pointed out. 

"That's been mentioned to me," Jenny spoke quietly. "Ty is the last of the Angry Angel, that's something he deserves. He fought and almost died that night, while I watched from the deck of a sailboat, light years away." 

"I think you may have some survivor guilt of your own, Doctor," Shane patted the older woman's shoulder. "And I doubt McQueen would be upset, if you wore the Angel insignia." 

"He's already taken me to task, for not doing so." Jenny smiled, remembering Christmas morning. "But he understands, or he wouldn't have let you guys give me a new call sign. He still goes by Queen Six. But he understood that I wasn't Angel-Doc anymore." 

"If they tagged you like that," Shane was amazed. "You were an Angel." 

"It started out as a joke." Jenny remembered the first night she and Gloria had gone to the Asteroid Bar together. "The Angels had all been in a huge bar fight the night before, even McQueen had joined in," Jen shook her head remembering. "Anyway, Webb tried to come on to me and began calling me Angel. Gloria took exception to it, and the next thing I knew I was dubbed Angel-Doc. Well, the Chigs killed almost all of them, Angel-Doc included." Jenny looked over at Shane, stressing her words. "Now there is only Queen Six. I would appreciate it if none of this conversation left this room." 

"Thank you for telling me all this." Shane was beginning to understand that Jenny really did know about grief and learning to deal with it, as well as love. "It helped." 

"I had hoped it would, now we both need to get some sleep, or Queen Six will put me through a meat grinder for keeping you up late talking, tonight."   
......................... 

February 5, 2064 

Howard Sewell smiled as he looked out the window of the ISSCV. The familiar clank and jerk of the transport signaled touchdown on the Saratoga's docking bay. It had been a long trip out from Earth, but he had enjoyed every minute of it. 

Damn Commodore Ross, for taking the alien ship away from him in November. And damn him for his supercilious attitude when Sewell had returned to help him get back his precious missing squad. Sewell had lied to Ross about Kazbek. A lie that could have cost Earth the Saratoga, but no one at the Company cared about that since the discovery of Sewell Fuel. "*Yes, Sewell Fuel,*" Howard Sewell grinned to himself as he looked at the metal case that was cuffed to his right wrist. In there was the key to his future and this time he was going to be very careful that no one took it away from him. 

If it had been left up to Sewell, he would have made the Navy crawl to get the material that was needed to kill Chiggy Von Richthofen, as payment for what Ross had done to him in November. E. Allan Wayne had other ideas, though. Wayne had made it clear to Sewell that this trip to the Saratoga would be the making of Sewell. He had been given the job of delivering the Fuel and the answers. Showing again, how powerful Aerotech was, and now days, Sewell. Payback was at hand and he planned to carry it off with all the class of a man of his importance, though a small voice inside of him whispered to give these military types what they deserved. 

The meeting that had taken place just before he left Earth, made Sewell wonder if Wayne realized the importance of the ore now in their possession. It was either that, or there was truth to the rumor that Wayne wasn't the man who really pulled the strings around Aerotech. 

Sewell was a collector of rumors, a hobby that had paid off handsomely over the years. Either way, Sewell planned on doing some digging when he returned to Earth. There was much more going on than met the eye, and he, Howard Sewell planned on being in on it all.   
............................................... 

The Saratoga February 5, 2064, 1600 hours 

Sewell had loved conducting the meeting, watching the stunned expressions on all the high ranking officer's faces. Even that damn Tank, McQueen had been transfixed at what he, Howard Sewell, had to say. Power was a wonderful thing. It would take him a day or two to finish refining the ore into a payload for the missile, then it was up to the Armed Forces to use the rocket he would produce. When it was all over, Howard Sewell would be known as the man who killed Chiggy Von Richthofen!   
.............................................. 

Saratoga, February 6, 1900 hours 

McQueen paced his quarters. It had been a bitch of a few days. Starting out yesterday, with Aerotech's appearance, once again on the Saratoga. Last evening, he had ended the day by getting into it with his squad in the Tun. If he had just let the whole thing drop, it would have gone without notice, but he had lost his temper and he ended up tearing into everyone except Vansen. Luckily she had been out of range of his foul mood, or he would have taken her apart too, before he remembered she was still hurting from the loss of a dear friend. Between Winslow's comment about the zero gravity chamber and Wang's over eager invitation to play table hockey, he felt hemmed in and out of control.   
  
All the time he had been taking a strip off each of their hides, he had been watching himself, wondering what he was doing. These were six young people who he cared a great deal about. HE had let the boundaries of command become thin, as he had grown to care about them. Last night he had changed the rules without warning, and gone back to the Ice Colonel of old. 

Winslow had been out of line, he knew it, and so did she. A week ago, McQueen would have given her 'the look' and taken her to task at a later date in the privacy of his office. Instead, he had talked to her as if she was one of the Marine groupies, he found so demeaning, at the bars in Loxley. 

The events in the Tun ran together in McQueen's mind. He couldn't remember which came first, Winslow's come-on, or Paul's nerve jangling remark about 'needing a new guy' for their game then asking him to join in. A week ago, he would have glared at the group of young Marines, but joined them, and whipped their butts in that table hockey game. He grinned as he stopped in front of his porthole, "*yup, I would have beaten their asses all right, and enjoyed every minute of it!*" Not that he would have let them know it. It wouldn't have been proper for a commanding officer to look like he was enjoying a thing like that with his squad. 

It was all the tension generated by Chiggy Von Richthofen, not only on a professional level, but a personal one as well. McQueen was skittish with nerves. This was his time. He felt it deep in his bones. He had come up with a battle plan that he was confident would defeat the dangerous Chig pilot. Now all they needed to do was find where the Ace was hiding. This was the mission McQueen felt he was created to fly. He had formulated the plan with his own flying skills in mind. Now he was impatient to flush out the Chig and do what needed to be done. 

To make matters worse they had a saboteur on the Saratoga. Whoever, had set off the blast that had killed Sewell and two of the men who had come with him, had been on the ship, and was still here. They had proof that the petroleum distillate, that had been added to the warhead, had come form the one of the ship's engine rooms. The small spark that it had produced, in the oxygen rich room, had caused a huge fire. Trapping the three men in the secured room. 

McQueen knew he had been putting off talking to Jen about having the surgery to remove his myo-electronic feedback implant. He tried to tell himself that it was because there was no sense in having surgery before the Ace pilot was found and the weapon was ready. Shaking his head and turning up the volume on his sound system to let Beethoven flow around him, he watched his reflection in the porthole. "*Yeah, right, McQueen, and if you believe that, there's a moon or two orbiting Jupiter that are for sale,*" he grinned. Jen was going to hit the ceiling when he told her what he had planned. 

His thoughts were interrupted by someone knocking on his hatch. "Who's at my hatch? He called out.   
........................................ 

Saratoga, February 6, 2064 1920 hours 

Deep in the bowels of the ship, someone was working his way to the nest of circuitry that made up the central communication hub. Once there, he moved outward, until he found a portal that was sealed off. Grinning to himself, as he thought how foolish Carbonites could be. Leaving unused communication accesses where anyone could get to them? Hiding in the shadows, he worked to remove the seal. With a bit of tweaking, he was able to tap into the main communications board of the Saratoga. 

He knew that at 2000 hours everyday there would be a dump of all routine out going messages, he carefully put together a short message of his own. If he planned it right, no one would ever suspect he had added a little something to the daily outgoings. Even if it was found, no one would think anything of it, after all, it looked like gibberish until it was decoded, and only another AI could do that, or someone with knowledge that had been given them by an AI. Once he added the message, he followed his orders, and deleted any trace of it from his memory banks.   
..................................... 

McQueen's quarters February 6, 2064 2000 hours 

McQueen glared out his porthole, as he heard his hatch close, and Kelly Winslow leave. As he had thought earlier, it had been a hell of a few days, but it only seemed to be getting worse. After the way he had treated the 58th yesterday, it had taken a lot for Winslow to have come to him and apologized the way she had. He only hoped she would be as forgiving if she ever learned just how much of what he had told her was part lie and half-truth. Turning in a temper, he grabbed his wedding picture and threw it against the wall. "Damn," he muttered as he heard the distinct sound of cracking glass. 

Yes, he had been thinking of Amy and his life with her, but not in the way he had led Winslow to believe. He hated that he had manipulate the young lieutenant. She had been worried about him as a person and been willing to listen to him if he needed to talk to someone. He only wished he could have told her the truth. For one second, he almost had. He had stood there, with her looking at him, her face filled with concern, but he just couldn't do it. Instead of the real reason Amy had been eating at his insides lately, he had told Winslow the public reason, the old pat answer about his inability to have children. 

McQueen wondered if the worry would have turned to shock if Winslow knew that the only reason Amy was on his mind, was because she was the symbol of all that he couldn't have out of life. This was old territory and McQueen wasn't going over it again. His life was his life. He had decided it was easier to go it alone no matter who came alone. It had been the reason for putting the picture of Amy back on his desk. As long as he kept reality and fantasy separate, he was fine. Okay, he had put temptation in his path when he had put the other picture, under the wedding picture. It had been a way to acknowledge something deep in himself, that even he wasn't going to look at. 

"Damn, I don't have time for things like this! Keep focused!" McQueen gritted his teeth as he turned the volume back up on the sound system. "I'm a Marine, this is what I do. I need to concentrate and get on with the job!" 

Ever since they had returned from Kazbek, McQueen had been feeling restless. Partly because of Jen. She was closing him out, and he didn't like it one bit. He should have been thrilled. It should have made things easier for him. But it wasn't. Okay, so they were friends, but it shouldn't work that way. In his experience, there were two kinds of women. The kind you worked with, talked with: comrades. Then there were the other kind, the ones that made your blood burn: lovers. Jen could fall into both categories if he ever let it happen. "*Does she realize? Is that why she's pushing you away? No, she wouldn't do that. She would be honest with you.*" 

He rationalized she was lumping him with the 58th, in her efforts to protect herself from getting hurt again. Knowing the why, didn't make it any easier to take. Jen had been the only women he had ever met who welcomed him openly and without condition, as a friend. Now she was walling herself off, trying to protect herself from a repeat of losing the Angry Angels. He could hardly blame her, she had lost so many in the last year. First the Angels, then the men she had worked with for five years. Now she faced an almost daily routine of sending the Wildcards out, and never being sure if they would come back. 

"*Look who's talking,*" McQueen reached for the picture that he had tossed across the room moments earlier. "*I've been keeping her at arms length for a long time. Why should I complain if she follows suit?*" 

His thoughts were interrupted as someone knocked on his hatch. "Damn," he muttered as he placed the picture, with the cracked glass back on his desk. "Who is it?" 

"Colonel McQueen, it's Dr. Kirkwood," Jen called out. 

McQueen opened his door, but was wary when Jen used both of their ranks, something was up. He didn't invite her in and this time she didn't barge in. 

"What do you want Jen? It's late and I need to get some sleep." McQueen was deliberately being as ungracious as possible. 

"I've just come from dinner with Glen Ross," Jen explained. "He was telling me that you want the myo-electronic feedback device removed. Is that true?" 

"You had dinner with Ross, did you?" McQueen stepped back and let Jen into his quarters. 

"We happened to run into each other in the Mess Hall," Jen shrugged. "He's worried about you, Ty." 

McQueen knew Ross didn't 'run into' anyone. If Glen had eaten with Jen it had been because the Commodore wanted to. What was his friend trying to pull, going to her behind his back. "I was going to talk to you about this in the morning, I guess we can fight it out tonight, instead." 

"So that means you really want it removed, so you can go after this fighter of theirs?" Jen met his cool stare with a blank one of her own. 

"I have to, Jen," McQueen thought of all people, she would understand. "I want you to remove it when we get more information on him." 

"Ty, no, I'm not the...." 

"Then get the hell out!" McQueen put his hand on her arm to turn her toward the door. He was through with people trying to tell him what to do. He was a soldier. He had been produced to fight and by all that was holy, he was going to fight. 

"Let go of me!" She shot back. Her left fist came up and hit McQueen on the shoulder. For an instant both people froze in shock. 

"Striking a superior officer is a court martial offense," McQueen ground out. He couldn't take his eyes off of Jen; her hand still fisted against his skin. 

"You know what? I don't give a damn, anymore." Jen's voice was rigid, emotionless. Why wouldn't he ever let her finish a sentence? "What are you going to do, shoot me? Throw me in the brig? One of the nice things about having lived in hell, is that nothing matters. And believe me, I've had a very thorough tour of all the rings of hell in the last year." 

McQueen had expected angry shouting, and had been prepared to handle it by pulling rank. It hadn't worked. Instead of anger he had gotten biting sarcasm, that carried too much of the truth for his comfort. 

"Well Colonel, what's it going to be? A firing squad or the brig?" Jen had to fight to keep from digging her nails into his arm where her hand was resting. "You were the one who was coming to me about this operation. You might at least have the courtesy to hear me out. Before, you throw me out." 

"Okay, Jen, have your say," McQueen pulled back. He could still feel the warmth of where she had touched him so he crossed his arms to keep her out. 

"I was going to say, that I'm not the one to do this procedure," Jen glared at the closed off man. "Any ham-fisted idiot using an harmonic scalpel with a number 11 blade and fine Debakey pick-ups can get that thing out of you. The trick is, not to do anymore damage to the nerve. Chico Voss is the man for the job. 

"His speciality is ENT. He has written a number of papers on the vestibular-occular interaction. He did a fellowship with Tom Michaels at Georgetown where the first vestibular-cocholar devices were invented. They were the forerunner to the device you have implanted. By the way, Chico is known in professional circles as Charles Kaplan Voss, M. D., Fellow Of The World College Of Otolaryngologist. We're lucky to have him on the Saratoga, if you want that removed." 

"You seem to know a lot about a subject you just heard about over dinner." McQueen was in unfamiliar territory. "Particularly when you say it isn't your speciality." 

"Of course I do," Jen turned and paced. "I've been doing research on the MEF device since I was stationed here." She stopped her pacing to face him. "Don't you realize I have been doing everything in my power to get you back in a Hammerhead?" 

"Why would you go to all that trouble?" McQueen watched the woman's face as apathy turned to surprise, followed by anger. 

"Ohhhh," the high pitched squeak that came from deep in Jen's throat took them both by surprise. In a few well chosen words, McQueen had made nothing of a friendship she had thought meant something to both of them. 

"Now, Jen..." Being a prudent man, McQueen took a step back. 

"Don't you 'now, Jen' me," she interrupted, slumping back against the hatch, too tired to argue. "I know how important flying is to you." Suddenly chilled, she wrapped her arms around herself. "I won't kid you, and tell you I think this is a good idea, Ty. From a purely medical standpoint, it stinks! But there's more to the making of a man than the physical. If you insist on having the implant removed, have Chico do it." 

"You trust him?" McQueen still remembered the run-in he had had with Voss when Jenny had first been brought aboard. 

"I know you don't like him," Jen sighed. "And I can understand why, but he leaves his politics out of Sickbay, just like I do. He'll keep you safe." 

"You're not going to argue with me about having this done?" He frowned, as Jen leaned against his hatch, shivering; all the fight drained out of her. 

"What's the use? You've already made up your mind, nothing I'm going to say will make you change it." She rubbed her arms; the cold she was feeling came from deep within. 

McQueen didn't like this one bit. He had won too easily. What was wrong with Jen that she wasn't arguing with him? It made him feel uneasy. He never liked doing what she poked and prodded him to do, but he always ended up letting her have her way. It was one of the constants between them. He trusted her to keep him safe, even from himself, in a medical situation. But on this issue, safety be damned, he wasn't giving in. 

"All right then, I'll see Voss about it tomorrow," McQueen moved to a small coffee machine beside his desk and poured a cup. "Are you off duty for the night?" 

"I had thought I'd give Chico a heads up about your medical history first," Jen was still leaning against the hatch, too weary to move. 

"Drink this, and cover my medical history in the morning." He poured a liberal dose of scotch in the hot coffee and handed it to the Doctor. "That's an order, Lieutenant Commander." 

"Whoo," Jen had taken a gulp of the hot liquid. "Goodness, this is strong. What are you trying to do, knock me out?" She looked up as her eyes watered from the strong coffee mixed with more scotch than she had anticipated. 

"No, just warm you up, but it's a thought. I do owe you one don't I, and a Marine always pays his debts," McQueen almost grinned as he watched her warm her hands by wrapping them around the cup, a gesture he had seen her use countless times in the past. 

"Well, since we're friends, I'll discharge you of the debt," Jen kidded as she took another, smaller drink of coffee. "This is a help, Ty, thanks." 

"I'd have given you a sweat shirt, but I seem to be down to one, these days." That was as close as McQueen would come to acknowledging the fact that Jen had kept his shirt. He wasn't sure how he felt about that, except for knowing that he wouldn't ask for it back. 

"McQueen, you don't look to be the kind of man who loses things," Jen was glad they were back to their old footing. "Here, I'll give you back your cup, before that walks away, too." She took one more swallow then handed back the half empty cup. "If I drink any more of this, you'll be able to add drunk and disorderly to my court martial." 

After Jen left, McQueen sat holding the half empty cup. His hands wrapped around it in an imitation of her's. "*What more can happen,*" he wondered tiredly.   
........................................ 

Earth, 2400 Earth standard time (Zulu) 

The phone rang on the secure line at Carleton Stryker's home office. He had waited up for this call. 

"Hello," he answered carefully in case it wasn't what he was waiting for. 

"It's done," Diane Hayden spoke quietly into his ear. She was calling from her office half way across the United States. For a few minutes they spoke of inconsequentials, but both their minds were on the importance of what had been accomplished. 

Sewell was dead, and in such a way that it couldn't be traced back to Earth. Unfortunately, the Elroy hadn't gotten the ore back. His secondary program was to destroy it, if retrieval was unsuccessful. It was imperative that the only 'known' sample of Sewell Fuel disappear. 

Sitting in a wing chair by the fire, Stryker contemplated his next move. E. Allan Wayne was messing up. That needed to be taken care of soon. Wayne had miscalculated how much Sewell really knew. When Stryker had had a private meeting with Sewell, it had been clear to the powerful man that Howard Sewell did know the significance of the ore that was found on Kazbek. It wouldn't have taken much snooping on Sewell's part to uncover the truth about the war. 

The only people who knew the truth were Wayne, Diane, and himself. He trusted Diane with his life. They were in this together, from the beginning. That left only Wayne. The more people who knew a secret, the harder it was to keep. That meant that Wayne needed to be eliminated in the near future. It would be tricker with Wayne. Old E. Allan hadn't gotten to where he was in Aerotech because he was careless. It would take some thinking.   
......................... 

Saratoga February 7 2064- 0730 hours 

ElroyL moved quietly through the ventilation ducts of the Saratoga. He knew once he activated the missile he would be detected by their sensors. With any luck, and he was a man who believed in luck, he would be able to escape in the ensuing confusion. Maybe, even have the pleasure of killing a few Carbonites before the bomb killed them all. Too bad he wasn't able to return the sample of Tetrahedral-7 ore, as the Chigs call it. At least he would destroy it, before anymore studies could be done on it. 

Carbonites or Chigs, it didn't matter much. The AI's had decided to let those inferior beings fight it out. Lending a hand where they could to keep the war going strong. When it was over, the still powerful Artificial Intelligence population would swoop down and finish off what was left of both races of living beings. 

An hour later ElroyL found himself being interrogated by a grim faced Tank and a very young man. He lived by the program 'take a chance,' and he was still doing just that as he tried to talk his way out of this situation. It tickled his motherboard that these Carbonites thought they could get anywhere with him. All the really important data had been purged from his hard drive on capture, what little he might tell them wouldn't do them any good. His only regret was that the ore hadn't been destroyed. Maybe Chiggy Von Richthofen would do it for him?   
..................................... 

Saratoga February 12, 2064- 1700 hours 

The great space carrier was strangely quiet. Men and women went about their jobs with sober faces, hardly talking to one another. A day that had begun with such promise, had ended in death. There was fear and sadness everywhere Commodore Ross looked. He had sent out the Wildcards with Col. Schrader to lure and kill Chiggy Von Richthofen. What should have been a victory for Earth, had ended up in disaster, when Schrader's Hammerhead carrying the Sewell Fuel missile was destroyed without getting off a shot. Lt. Kelly Winslow was killed in the battle that followed. The first of the original Wildcards who had survived the Battle of The Belt, to fall. 

McQueen still fought the dizziness that had been with him ever since Voss had remove the MEF device from his inner ear. Ross had chosen Schrader over him when it came to flying the mission. At the time, he could see the logic, but he had raged against it. This was his mission. Now it was his mission, again. 

Moving carefully he dressed in the black flightsuit he thought he would never wear, again. It was different from the one he wore on a daily basis. No one else might see the difference, but he did. Missing were the 58th Squadron Patch and the Wildcard Patch. Strange, he felt naked without them. 

Leaving his quarters, with his helmet tucked under his arm, McQueen came face to face with Jenny Kirkwood as she left her's. He almost didn't recognize her. She was wearing dress Navy Blues, she must have been on her way to Winslow's memorial service. He couldn't think of anything else that would make her put on the uniform. He knew he should have been there too, but he planned a much more personal memorial for his lost child. 

"Ohh," Jen whispered, unable to take her eyes off the man in black. It was like seeing a ghost. 

"Don't try to stop me," McQueen whispered. 

Shaking her head "no", Jen raised her arm and held up her open hand, her fingers spread wide. He had seen Gloria Collins do this with her countless times in the past. His black gloved hand gripped hers in the air. Their fingers meshed to make a raised double fist. Clear blue eyes met deep gray ones, as Jen whispered the old battle cry, "not even death can defeat an Angry Angel." 

Jen leaned back against the bulkhead in the corridor after McQueen walked away. She could still feel the soft leather of his glove, against her palm and between her fingers where they had held on to each other and the past for one moment. As she caught her breath, she moved slowly up the stairs, in no hurry, not wanting to see him take off. 

The 58th were in a tight salute as the Hammerhead cockpit descended. Jen came up behind them, followed by the Commodore and Chaplain Baeslack. The deck plating rumbled as McQueen engaged his engines. In the far window they could see a single Hammerhead rushing away from the Saratoga, the light from a distant star reflecting off of it. 

"Behold, a pale horse," Jen whispered as she turned and walked away. 

The Chaplain stared after her as what she said sank in, "and his rider was death and hell followed with him. Amen, Doctor," Baeslack called to her. "Yes, Amen!" 

"What was that about a horse?" Hawkes looked confused. 

"It's from the Bible, Coop," Damphousse told him. "The book of Revelations. It tells of a harbinger of death, that is released by Christ. If the look on the Colonel's face was any indication, I think it's very fitting." 

"Christ?" Coop was remembering back to Christmas on the ISSCV, "He was one of the good guys?" 

"Yes, Coop," 'Phousse smiled. "A very good guy." 

Jen knew she should go to the memorial service, but her heart wasn't in it. She quickly changed from her Dress Blues into some old jeans and a sweater before heading for the alcove to watch for McQueen's return. She was safe up here. Even if McQueen got back without her seeing him, she knew he was too dizzy to climb the stairs. She just hoped it wouldn't be a useless wait. 

Leaning her face against the glass she watched the stars. Different stars from the last time she was here, but stars none the less. "Ok, Universe we've got a deal, remember?" She whispered, "I'm sticking to my end, you need to stick to yours. I've pulled back, am polite, but nothing else. So, Universe, you have to bring him home safely. I've rebuilt my wall thick and high, so he can't get in. He'll never know how I feel about him, so you let him live! Pax?" She placed her palm against the window to seal the bargain.   
....................................... 

Saratoga, February 12, 2064- 2200 hours The Tun Tavern 

The news crept slowly through the ship. Lt. Col. Tyrus Cassius McQueen had killed Chiggy Von Richthofen! He had done the impossible. 

The Colonel, had said he would drink a bottle of scotch after killing the Chig's Red Baron, and he was doing just that. He could see Hawkes in the corner, keeping an eye on him. For the last three hours the Wildcards had been working in shifts, babysitting him. He was about ready to go over there and order them to leave him alone. He assumed Jen had sent them, she was the only one with nerve enough to do it. 

He was dizzy from the removal of the MEF device, and two-thirds of a bottle of scotch only made it worse. There were other people in the Tun, but they were leaving him alone. The grim expression on his face causing them to give him a wide berth. 

"Ty?" Commodore Ross joined McQueen at the bar. "How're you doing?" 

McQueen turned and looked at his friend, then looked down at his glass. 

"Let's get you out of here and leave the bottle," Ross advised him. 

"I haven't finished it yet," McQueen muttered, as he downed the remaining swallow and reached to refill the glass. 

"That bottle will finish you," Ross reached for the scotch. 

"Glen," McQueen growled. "Sir." 

"Come on, Ty," Ross ignored the threat in McQueen's voice. "Let's get you out of here, while you can still walk." Turning to the bartender, Ross indicated the bottle, "we'll be taking this with us." 

"Did she send you in here after me?" McQueen stood, forcing himself to walk very straight, careful of each movement, as he and Ross headed toward McQueen's quarters. 

"She?" Ross decided it was safer to play dumb. "She, who?" 

"Jen," McQueen enunciated carefully. "She's had one of the Wildcards watching me ever since I told her to get the hell out of there, and leave me alone. Damn that woman, a man can't even get a drink in peace!" 

"Jen?" Ross didn't want to make McQueen any angrier at the woman than he already was. "You mean Dr. Kirkwood?" 

"Yes, Dr. Jennifer I'm-Always-Right Kirkwood," McQueen was proud of himself for getting the whole sentence out without tripping over words. "Damn, I'm dizzy, but don't tell her, I'll never hear the end of it." 

"Why are you so sure Jenny sent your squad in to keep an eye on you?" Ross guided McQueen to his door.   
  
"They didn't show up until I told her to get the hell out of my life." McQueen fumbled as he punched the code to his door, "always sticking her nose in where it doesn't belong." 

Ross followed McQueen into his quarters. If Ty was going to finish that bottle of scotch, Ross planned on staying with him. The Marine was in no physical condition to take care of himself in the fight that would result from his foul mood, if he went anywhere. The Commodore grinned as he pictured the number of security guards it would have taken to put them both in the Saratoga's brig, if McQueen had started anything in the Tun. He would have ended up covering his friends back, like the last time the Colonel had one of his black moods, and all hell would have broken loose. Thank goodness, those moods didn't occur very often. 

"You going to offer me a drink from that bottle of your's?" Ross didn't like scotch, but it would be that much less that Ty consumed. 

"Sure, grab yourself a glass," McQueen poured them both generous amounts of the whiskey. "Here's to....whatever?" He was about to take a drink when he saw Ross pick up the wedding picture from his desk. The glass was still broken from McQueen's ire after talking to Winslow. 

"Give that to me!" McQueen reached for the picture. Worried that his friend might see the picture buried below the wedding photo. 

"She's a beautiful woman, Ty," Ross handed the picture of Amy over to his friend. Something had been eating at McQueen for the last few months, maybe it had to do with this picture. Ross remembered, three years ago, when Ty had put it away in a storage locker. It had surprised Ross to find the photo sitting on McQueen's desk when the 5-8 had been assigned to the Saratoga. 

"That she is, Glen, that she is," McQueen laughed at himself. "She's the all-American girl, tall, blond, blue-eyed, and lush." He just shook his head at his own folly. "I remember, in the mines and the in-vitro squads, we used to obsess about women like this. They were a prize beyond our wildest dreams. Then I walked home with the prize. I've got the picture to prove it!" McQueen's laughter was bitter. 

"Marriages don't always work out," Ross thought about his own divorce. "Look at me, I should know." 

"What happened between you and Gretchen?" McQueen looked at his friend, the picture still clutched in one hand, a glass of scotch in the other, as he made himself comfortable on the side of his bunk. "You're both natural-borns, you appeared to love each other." 

"We did, in a way we still do," Ross, sprawled in McQueen's desk chair, and began to drink the scotch that he didn't like. It was going to be one of those nights and he needed something to fortify him.   
  
"Every night, I was away from her, I was unfaithful, and she knew it. Don't get me wrong! I was never with another woman. But ships, Ty?" Ross shook his head. "Ships, can be jealous mistresses! I know every sound and inch of the 'Toga," Ross caressed the bulkhead nearest him, as if it was a woman. "If she goes down in this war, I will be on her. She will NOT die alone! I couldn't say that about Gretchen. I would head off to the sky, to my ship and leave her behind. She just grew tired of it all." 

"It sounds as if you and Gretchen had a lot of the same troubles Amy and I had," McQueen traced the face of the golden beauty in the picture. "Being with her was wonderful, but flying? It was my life." He leaned against the bulkhead, his head back, staring at the ceiling. "I tried to make her understand how it was, but she never realized how much of the man I am, is defined by what I do." 

"Women can be like that," Ross was thinking back to his early days with Gretchen. "They love you and the things they think define you. Then suddenly one day they discover they love an image of you. One that they have created in their minds, a flesh and blood man has no chance of living up to that image." 

"Add to that image an in-vitro!" McQueen pointed to himself. "I tried to tell Amy what it would be like, but......." 

"That's bullshit, Ty!" Ross was angry that his friend had been carrying the burden of the failure of his marriage for so long. "She knew you were an in-vitro when she married you. And that half-assed story about not wanting to conceive a child through assisted-conception is a bunch of crap! That was a handy excuse to end the marriage and leave you with the blame." 

"She knew, but she didn't understand," McQueen tried to convince his friend. "I've know for a long time the story was a cover-up for deeper problems." 

"She did understand. About all of it, including the injury you received as a POW," Ross looked McQueen in the eyes. "She and I had a long talk, before you were married. She knew exactly what she was getting into." 

"Are you saying you checked up on her before I married her?" McQueen was furious. 

"No," Ross shook his head and took another drink of scotch. "I talked with her. There is a difference. You're my friend, Ty. With friendship goes a responsibility. I would take a bullet for you, as I know you would for me. Why would you think I wouldn't have a few words with the woman you were going to marry? Believe me, it's a lot less deadly." 

McQueen glared at Ross, angered that he would stick his nose in private business, but feeling something else too. Something he couldn't identify. 

"You want the truth?" Ross challenged, pleased when McQueen shook his head in the affirmative. "It takes guts and strength to make a relationship last, any kind of a relationship. Amy didn't have what it takes." 

"You don't know what you're talking about," McQueen interrupted. "You have no idea what it's like to live with hate and prejudice all the time." 

"Bullshit," Ross leaned closer to the man on the bunk. "I'm a black man who grew up in the south. That shouldn't mean anything now-a-days, but it does. 

"There are some rural areas down there, that are still fighting the Civil War. There are places on that planet where I am still a Niger, Paul Wang is a Chink, and Admiral Presti a Wop. There is always a reason for one person to hate another. 

"It makes me sick to think that looking the slightest bit different gives someone license to hate another person. The color of our skin, the shape of our eyes, where our parents were born, or where our navel is placed, shouldn't make any difference. Some people don't define who they are, instead, they define who they aren't, by hating like that. It takes strength and courage to stand up to that, my friend, and Amy didn't have what it takes to stand by you as the wife of a pilot, never mind all the rest." 

"I've heard that rhetoric before," McQueen raised his glass. "Thank you Dr. Jennifer Kirkwood, for writing The In-Vitro Chronicles. Adding fuel to the fire and giving the world another person to hate." 

"Just because Jenny wrote it, doesn't make me feel it any less," Ross smiled. "That woman does have a way with words. Unfortunately, many of her words are fighting words. Has she been giving you a very bad time?" 

"No worse than she ever has," McQueen shrugged. "So when you talked to Amy all those years ago, you didn't think she was a stayer?" He deliberately changed the subject. 

"I hoped she was. She talked a good line, but she was young and couldn't see past that pretty face of yours," Ross grinned. "I had no doubt that she thought she loved you. I just wasn't sure if it was love and not lust she was feeling." 

"That's natural-born thinking," McQueen laughed. 

"Ty, you're too intelligent a man to pretend that you don't know the difference. Or to fall back on the in-vitro saying of, 'if it feels good, do it.'" Ross poured himself another drink, wondering why his friend was playing games with him. "My old grandmother used to have a saying, 'lust takes, while love gives.' Think about your relationship with Amy, how much giving did she do?"   
  
"Love, what do I know about love?" McQueen dodged the question. "Though, I've learned about loving when it comes to the 58th." 

"You said as much to me a few months ago," Ross acknowledged. "But I wasn't sure you realized how much truth there was to the statement, at the time." 

"Oh, I meant it all right," McQueen smiled. "I was just starting to figure it out. But today, I proved it to myself. Winslow was one of my kids. I killed Chiggy Von Richthofen in her honor." 

"To Lt. Kelly Winslow," Ross raised his glass and touched it to his friends. 

"To Winslow," McQueen finished his glass and poured more scotch for them both. "You know she made a pass at me in the Tun the other day," McQueen shook his head remembering. "Then when she apologized, I lied to her. Now she's dead and I can't ever apologize to her for that." 

"Wait!" Ross was slow to process what McQueen was saying. "Winslow came on to you? What did you do about it?" 

"I chewed her out," McQueen made a sour face. "Along with the whole squad. Women, I'll never understand them. You fight along side of them, and all goes well, but get one of them out of a combat situation and they turn on you." 

Ross was laughing so hard his sides hurt. "My friend, every man since Adam has made that observation. So, what did you lie to her about?" 

"About my life, and why Amy is on my mind so much," McQueen sighed. His eyes were focused on something only he could see. "Not all women are like that," he murmured so softly, Ross wasn't sure he was hearing correctly.   
  
"Sometimes a woman comes along and she sees right to the core of you." Ty was thinking of gray eyes that had given him the support that he had needed, a few hours ago, to do what needed to be done. And a soft voice that had given him time to heal, then showed him that his soul was owned by him and not the capricious sky. 

"Have you found such a woman?" Ross studied the other man. "*Was this what had been making McQueen act so strange lately?"* 

"Hmmm?" Through the haze of liquor, McQueen realized he may have said more than he should have. He had lied to Winslow, but Ross knew him too well for him to get away with a simple lie. "Have I found what?" 

Had he heard McQueen correctly? Was McQueen talking about a woman other than Amy? Even when he had been married to her, Ross couldn't remember Ty talking this way. Sure he had said he loved his squad, but if Ross was understanding McQueen correctly, he had found a woman who he really cared about. Testing his theory, Ross asked, "why is Amy on your mind so much?" 

"Amy isn't, that was the biggest part of the lie," McQueen pulled himself to his feet and walked to his porthole, holding his glass to the stars. "Forgive, me Winslow?" "*I almost told you, but if I had, then I would have known it, too. And I can't know it.*" For one second, everything was crystal clear to McQueen, then as if someone turned the kaleidoscope, the pattern changed and everything was out of focus. "Sorry Glen, I must really be drunk, I'm rambling." 

Ross wasn't sure what he had just seen and heard. Was there someone who McQueen cared about? He wished that he hadn't had so much to drink, maybe he would have been able to figure his friend out. If he was lucky, this conversation would make more sense in the morning, if he remembered any of it. 

"So tell me, Glen?" McQueen lounged back on his bunk and looked Ross up and down. "Tell me, natural-born man, what's the answer?" 

"You'll have to tell me what the question is first, Ty," Ross reached for the almost empty bottle of scotch. He was beginning to appreciate the taste of the drink, after all. 

"Tell me about the mysteries of women?" McQueen nailed his friend with a cool blue stare. 

"That would take years," Ross sipped his drink. 

"I have this theory," McQueen was off on another tangent, all his friend could do was listen and try and keep up. "Knowing where your heart is can be the hard part. Life is so easy when you bury all feelings. Don't let anything in. Just live by the rules of the Corps. Not looking to the right or the left, just marching along, following orders and doing your duty." McQueen was looking into the photo, Ross had the feeling that his friend was seeing something that was buried deep within. 

"What you're describing sounds pretty dull to me," Ross knew that was how McQueen lived his life at times, but he had always wished for something better for his friend. "Safe, but dull. Women can tie a man in a knot, so tight, no sailor can get free. They get you coming and going with their pretty smiles, then don't know you exist. You take them to dinner, sweet talk them, and all they see is a friend." Ross shook his head feeling sorry for himself. 

"Don't tell me that somewhere on this ship of 5000 people, there's a woman who has caught the Commodore's interest?" Ty teased his friend. He had turned the tables. Let Ross stew in the spotlight for a while. 

"Yes, and she doesn't know I'm alive, at least not as a man," Ross shook his head sadly. "You know her, maybe you can plead my case." 

"You stay away from my Marines!" McQueen wasn't kidding. "You're screwing with the chain of command." 

"Not Vansen or Damphousse," Ross shrugged his shoulders. "Though they are both attractive women, very attractive," he smiled as he thought of the young Marines. "I'm talking about Jenny Kirkwood." 

"You and Jen?" So that was why she had been keeping him at arms length. 

"I'm afraid, it's just me," Ross rambled. "She can't see me for a bulkhead. I've had dinner with her three different times, but each time, she treats it as business. You've known her for a while, who's the man in her life?" 

"As far as I know, there isn't any," McQueen thought over all he knew about Jen. "No, in all the time I've known her, there hasn't been anyone she has dated more than once or twice. Back in Loxley, she would go out with the Angels in a group." 

"There has to be someone," Ross probed. "Maybe one of the Angels? Is there a man she's mourning? Was he the one who gave her that bracelet?" 

"What are you talking about?" McQueen reached for the bottle, only to discover it was empty. "Jen isn't one to talk about herself much. I've learned more about her from talking to Patsy, than she ever told me." 

"I sure would like to be the man who gave her that bracelet," Ross mumbled. 

"What makes you think some man gave it to her?" McQueen realized there was something significant in what Ross was saying, but he couldn't get a grasp on it. 

"I just do!" 

"You're drunk Glen," McQueen was trying hard to follow Ross' line of thinking. "What does a piece of gold have to do with it." 

"Women are strange mysterious creatures, especially when it comes to jewelry," Ross felt as if he was lecturing on a subject he knew nothing about. 

"That's bullshit!" McQueen snorted. "*Boy, was Ross ever missing the boat.*" 

"Our little Doctor doesn't wear any jewelry," Ross was shaking his finger at his friend. "Just that damn bracelet. You ever notice that when she's worried or afraid she plays with it?" 

"That doesn't mean a thing," McQueen dismissed the idea. After all, he was the one who gave her the bracelet. He should know. "Patsy probably gave it to her," it wasn't exactly a lie, but it would keep Glen from coming to false conclusions. 

"Nope, no way," Ross shook his head. "She talks about Patsy all the time. But she never talks about that bracelet. It's precious, private. I think it means something very special to her." 

"Yeah, right," McQueen argued. "I think it's just a piece of jewelry." He would have liked to explain to Ross that it reminded Jen of her boat and all the things she loved, but something in his scotch-hazed mind was telling him it was something better left unsaid. 

"Today you proved you can make an SA-43 attack jet do everything except stand up and salute; you can bluff like a son-of-a-bitch in poker; and you're one of the best Marines I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. But when it comes to women, you don't know shit, Ty. Ty?" Ross looked over to where his friend had slumped over on his bunk. "Ty? Ha! I've finally out-drunk you....or is it drank you?" "*Who gives a shit about grammar?"* Ross snorted. 

"You are going to be one sick puppy in the morning," Ross shook his head as he moved to make his friend more comfortable. "Up you go, Ty." He pulled McQueen's legs onto the bunk then straightened the man out. 

"You got it wrong, Glen," McQueen's eyes were half open and his speech slurred. "Not a man," he mumbled. "Her boat, Jen's like you. She loves her damn boat....." His eyes closed again, and was out cold.   
....................................... 

Saratoga February 13, 2064, 0100 

Quiet knocking woke Jenny. Confused, she grabbed her wrist beeper, to make sure she wasn't being being paged by Sickbay. 

"Yes, who is it?" She shuffled to the door, wearing an over-sized man's sweat shirt, a gold bracelet and red toenail polish. 

"It's Glen Ross," the Commodore whispered from the other side of the door. "I need your help out here." 

"Just a sec," Jenny pulled on a pair of sweat pants and grabbed her gear bag before opening the door. "What can I do for you, Commodore?" 

"I need help with McQueen," Ross, pointed down the hall. "You were right, about the drinking. I've only seen him like this once before, and that was after his divorce. I want to make sure he'll be all right for the night." 

"No problem, Sir," Jen pulled her door closed, not bothering with shoes. McQueen's quarters were a few doors down from hers. 

Ross punched in McQueen's door code and opened the door for the Doctor. "I was going to try and get him to drink some coffee, but he passed out before I could suggest it." 

"It's just as well, Commodore," Jen leaned over McQueen to check his vital signs. "The more there is in his stomach, the greater the odds he'll throw it up." 

"I thought you had agreed to call me Glen, the other night," Ross smiled at the woman bent over his friend. 

"Sorry, Glen," Jen sat beside McQueen on the bunk. "As I see it, we have a few options. Ideally, he should be in Sickbay, but we can't move him, without attracting attention. But if he stays here, he shouldn't be left alone. Between a hangover and his dizziness, he could hurt himself when he wakes up." 

"What do you suggest?" Ross sat back down on the desk chair, figuring he was going to have a long night ahead of him. 

"You look done in. What did you do, match him drink for drink?" Jen shook her head. "I used to think it was just Marines who were macho jerks, I may need to rethink that." 

"I did have a tiny bit of rum before I went to the Tun," Ross held up his hand, with his index finger and thumb spread about four inches apart. "What are our other options?" 

"I could stay," Jen turned and held up her hand to Ross. "I know. I know all the reason's why I shouldn't be the one," she began to tick them off on her fingers. "He's my commanding officer, so it would be damaging to his reputation; he is in-vitro, I am in-utero, so it'd be damaging to my reputation. Most importantly, he doesn't want me here! But frankly, Glen, you look like hell, and I'm not sure you wouldn't end up coming and getting me if he got into trouble anyway." 

"I'll stay," Ross shrugged. "He would do it for me." 

"Ouch," Jen grunted as McQueen moved slightly, pushing something sharp against her hip. Standing she shifted him and pulled out a framed picture that was buried half under him. "Bitch," she mouthed as she placed the picture face down on the desk. 

"I see you've met Amy," Ross raised an eyebrow at the woman, who flushed as she realized he had heard her derogatory comment. 

"I've never had the pleasure, but I've cleaned up one her messes, " Jen murmured, her mind more on the problem at hand than McQueen's ex-wife. "Glen, what about Joan Brill? This isn't her night in Sickbay. I trust her, and I know she would help us out, if I asked her to. She's discrete and best of all, McQueen won't be able to bully her when he wakes up." 

Five minutes later, Ross was on his way to get the nurse, along with a list of supplies that Jen had given him to get from Sickbay. 

Leaning over McQueen, Jen placed two fingers on his neck, just below the jaw line, counting his heart beats as she knelt beside him. "Oh Ty, what have you done to yourself," she muttered. 

Half an hour later the hatch to McQueen's quarters opened, Ross had let Joan in, then headed back to his own quarters. The Nurse was brought to a halt at the sight of the two sleeping people. McQueen on his right side, holding Jen's hand against his neck. His left arm thrown over her shoulders. Jen's legs curled on the floor, her head, and the arm that McQueen wasn't holding, rested on the bunk, inches away from his face. 

"It's almost a shame to wake her," Brill shook her head. "The only time they get close to each other is when one of them is unconscious." 

She carefully removed McQueen's arm from around Jenny's shoulders. "Colonel, you need to do this when you're both awake," the nurse lectured. "No freebies for you, Sir." 

"Hmmm," Jenny woke at the sound of the woman's voice beside her. "Joan? That didn't take long," it seemed to Jenny as if Ross had just left. "Oh, boy am I stiff," she started to stretch, but stopped, when she felt McQueen's grip tighten on her hand. 

"Jen?" His eyes opened as he pulled her toward him. "What happened? It's not the Greens again, is it?" 

"No, Ty," she tried to smile, but her eyes filled with tears. "You had too much to drink, that's all." She ran her hand gently through his hair above his ear. "I'm going to give you something to calm your stomach, but it won't help with the dizziness." 

"S'all right," he mumbled. "Just as long as it's not the Greens, don't want to hurt you again." 

"You didn't then and you won't now." Her voice cracked as Brill handed her the hypospray and she pushed it against his neck with her free hand. 

"Trust you, Jen," his eyes began to close. "Want you to trust me, again." 

"God, don't let him remember that conversation," Jenny leaned her head on the bunk beside the sleeping man, and rubbed her face against his blanket in an attempt to remove any trace of tears. "I'm so sorry, Ty. I didn't mean to scare you like that." 

"I'll take good care of him," Joan patted the younger woman on the shoulder. She kept her Nurse's face carefully in place. Later she would think about what she had seen and heard tonight. "What was that about Greens? He have a problem with them in the past?" 

"Yes," Jen stood and moving into doctor mode, gave a history and assessment before handing over care of the patient. "If you need me, I'm two doors down." 

"We'll be fine, and I'll see he keeps his morning appointment with Dr. Voss. You get some sleep," Joan waited until the doctor left McQueen's quarters, before she pulled out the sweater she was knitting for her daughter, who was Chief Medical Officer on the Eisenhower.   
...................................... 

Saratoga Mess Hall, February 13, 2064- 1300 hours 

Joan Brill had just finished eating lunch with Jenny Kirkwood. It was Joan's day off and she was playing in a bridge tournament in five mikes, or she would have stayed with the younger woman. As they had eaten, Jenny had thanked Joan for her help in the early morning hours, but had changed the subject whenever Joan tried to bring up Colonel McQueen. Joan had been in the Navy too long to ever be called a romantic, but she would have bet her pension that there was something going on between the two younger people. And if there wasn't, there sure should be. 

"Lady-Doc, can we join you?" Jen was caught by surprise when she looked up from her coffee and found herself surrounded by Wildcards. 

"Sure, I'd love the company," she smiled at Nathan who had led the group over to her table. "What have you been up to?" 

"We have the day off," Hawkes grinned. "Is the Colonel ok? They wouldn't let us see him this morning when we tried." 

"He's fine, Dr. Voss should be releasing him from Sickbay this afternoon," Jenny took a sip of her coffee. "Chico put the myo-electronic feedback device back in his inner hear at about 0730 today. The Colonel was a lucky man. From what Chico tells me, there was very little scar damage done from it's removal, so the MEF should operate as well as it did before." 

"So, no more flying for the Colonel?" The look on Shane's face was almost painful. 

"Shane, Colonel McQueen knew when it was removed, that it was only a temporary situation." Jenny wasn't sure how much more she had a right to discuss without permission. "Having it removed was taking a big chance, and everyday he left it out, there was time for more scar tissue to build up and do more damage." 

"He never said anything about it to us," West had hoped McQueen would be able to fly again. 

"I probably told you more then I should have, but I know you care about him," Jenny looked at the young people around her. "Be a little patient with him, if his temper is a bit short over the next few weeks." 

When they were done eating, the Wildcards hurried off to a volleyball court they had reserved for the afternoon, but Cooper Hawkes stayed behind with Dr. Kirkwood. 

"Do you have a few minutes, Doctor?" Hawkes didn't know how to go about asking what he needed to know, but he had finally worked up the courage and he wasn't going to let the chance get away from him. "I need to talk to you about something." 

"Sure, Coop, I'm off this afternoon, too," Jenny looked around and noticed a table for two in the corner that had just been vacated. "Why don't we move over there, so we aren't bothered." 

After getting more coffee, they moved to the more private table. "What can I do for you?" Jenny smiled at the young man across from her. 

"I've been reading your book," Cooper was amazed that he was talking to someone who had written a book. "And well, some of the things it says..... are they all true?" 

"To the best of my knowledge. All the scientific information in that book is based on fact," Jenny searched her mind for what he might be talking about. "But you'll have to be more specific. I did put some of my own ideas in there as well, but they are things I believe to be true." 

"I guess, it's some of the ideas that bother me," he scrunched up his face. "See, I know that Colonel McQueen would never agree to some of the things you say about in-vitros in there. That bit about emotions and feeling, in particular." 

"You really look up to the Colonel, don't you?" Jenny was beginning to see the problem. 

"Yes, Ma'am." 

"When it comes to the Marine Corps, you couldn't have a better person to learn from than Colonel McQueen," Jen was afraid Ty was going to take her head off for this, but she was going to tell the young in-vitro what she really thought. "But you have to remember that he's a different generation of in-vitro than you are. A different person. There is only one Tyrus McQueen and there is only one Cooper Hawkes. Both unique human beings." 

"So are you telling me that McQueen is wrong?" Coop couldn't comprehend the idea, but the way she had called him human without even thinking about it made him feel good inside. 

"No, what I am saying is that just because something works for him, doesn't mean it's the answer for you." Jenny leaned forward, to underline the importance of what she was saying. "Think about it this way. You're six, right?" 

"Yes." 

"When McQueen was six, he had spent five years in the mines doing indentured servitude, then had been in an In-Vitro Unit of the Marine Corps, handling munitions for another year. Those In-Vitro Units were just an extension of indentured servitude. In one word, slavery!" Jen was angry just thinking about what generations of in-vitros had gone through. "Now, compare it to what you've done in the last six years." 

"A lot of what I've done hasn't been so good," he thought back to the years in Philadelphia. "But it wasn't anything like, what you say, the Colonel went through." 

"That's what I'm talking about," Jen smiled. "And what about this last year, with the 58th. You've got friends; people that really care about you. He didn't have that." 

"Caring is real hard," Cooper looked so serious when he said it, Jenny had to hide a smile. 

"Society teaches young in-vitros hate, fear, prejudice, and anger, then it wonders 'way' those are the emotions that you show the easiest." Jen shook her head at the folly of so many people. 

"You're right," Coop looked at Jenny, she had made is sound so easy. "How do I learn about caring, then?" 

"I think you already know about it," she met his serious gaze. "You care about your squad don't you?" 

"Well sure, but you're a natural-born," Coop interrupted the doctor. "It's easy for you to talk about caring." 

"First of all Cooper, you need to learn that not all IN-UTERO-borns have a loving, wonderful family." Jenny was just angry enough to tell him the truth. "My mother died when I was born and as for my father? Well, lets just say, he wasn't interested in being a father." 

"I'm sorry" Hawkes sputtered. "I didn't know." 

"But, I was very lucky," Jenny reached in the pocket of her lab coat and pulled out a phototag she always carried. "See this woman? That's Patsy Howard. She raised me and she's an in-vitro." 

"She looks so happy," Hawkes held the phototag of Jenny with her arms around a tall stately older woman. Both women were laughing into the camera as they held on to each other. They were standing in a rose garden. "You love her don't you?" 

"Of course," Jenny laughed. "We grew up together. I had an angry father who would darken our doorstep about twice a year, but most of the time it was just Patsy and me. Though, in my early years it was hard on me knowing that nothing I could do would make my father love me." 

"But, you were able to learn about love from an in-vitro?" Cooper wondered what it must have been like for the woman in the picture. 

"We learned together, I guess," suddenly a thought hit Jenny. "Coop, is there a woman you're interested in, is that what this is all about?" 

"Well, yes," the big Marine looked embarrassed. 

"Maybe this is something you should talk to the Colonel about," Jenny was uncomfortable giving the young man advice about women. 

"No," Coop shook his head. "Not about this, Dr. Kirkwood. She isn't an in-vitro, and well....it's not something I can talk to him about." 

"I can see your point," Jen fidgeted in her chair. "Why me, Coop? Nathan might be able to help you better than I can." 

"I know the facts of life," Coop grinned. "I wanted to talk to you about it, because I knew you would understand. I see how you are with the Colonel, friends and all. His being an in-vitro doesn't get in the way..." 

"Wait, back up there, Lieutenant," Jenny felt her stomach clench. "What's this about the Colonel and me?" 

"Well, you're friends," Coop was flustered, he realized he had gone too far. "We see you guys talking, and you make him laugh, something he almost never does. I didn't mean, well you aren't...." 

"I get the picture," Jenny held up her hand to stop the young man. "Sorry, I didn't mean to jump on you like that. The Colonel wouldn't appreciate rumors." Jenny had no illusions on that account. McQueen was a very attractive man and he liked beautiful women. He still had that picture on his desk to prove it. She was slightly hurt that Hawkes didn't see her as pretty enough for McQueen, but Jen knew that the truth hurt sometimes. "*Get over it, Kirkwood.*" 

"How can I be of help to you, Cooper?" She decided a change of subject was the easiest way out. 

"This woman, well, I like her a whole lot," Coop thought about Shane and how pretty she was. "How do I make her like me back? I mean, not just like me, but you know, care for me as a man?" 

"You can't make someone like you, or care about you," Jenny sighed as she listened to her own advice. "I like to believe that once people get to know each other and care about each other, that the in-vitro, in-utero issue doesn't matter, but I'd be lying to you if I said that it didn't. Is it something that might be a problem for the woman you're talking about?" 

"Is that how it worked for you?" Cooper hated to mention McQueen again, but that was one of the reasons he thought Jenny was a good person to talk to. She had gotten past prejudice of in-vitros and was a friend to the man he thought so much of. 

"What do you mean?" 

"Did you get past the Colonel being an in-vitro?" He looked a bit embarrassed. "Before you became friends." 

"You're asking the wrong person about that," Jenny laughed, realizing that was why Coop had been interested in the friendship she had with McQueen, he wasn't implying that anything else was going on. "I didn't know there was a difference until I was about six years old." 

"No way!" 

"Yes, way," Jenny kidded, then turned serious. "I knew that Patsy's navel wasn't where mine was, but then she had brown eyes and mine were gray, I didn't think anything of it. One day we were in one of the stores and someone made a crack about in-vitros. That's when I learned. But I guess I never really learned, because, I don't see the difference. Patsy is just a woman to me and the Colonel is just a man." 

"How did you grow up thinking like that?" 

"Part of it was where I grew up. The year-round residence of Catalina are few and we take care of each other. Patsy had been accepted into the community when I was too young to remember. I guess over the years people forgot, or didn't care that Pats was an in-vitro." For the first time Jenny realized how lucky she had been to grow up in a small insulated community. 

"That's the real reason you wrote your book isn't it?" Cooper was stupefied that anyone would think the way Jenny did. "You wrote it for Patsy." 

"You're a very intelligent man, Cooper Hawkes," Jenny drank the last of her coffee and smiled at the young man. "I would have dedicated my book to her, but I was afraid that it would cause her trouble." 

"The way you think is a bit scary," Cooper admitted. "Is there a reason you haven't asked me who the woman is that I'm interested in?" 

"I thought if you wanted me to know you would tell me," Jenny looked him straight in the eyes. 

"I appreciate your not prying," Coop looked relieved. "Why is caring so much harder than anger or hate?" 

"I think it's harder, because when we open ourselves up to care, we leave ourselves vulnerable to another." Jen gave Coop a sad smile. "It's handing someone the power to hurt us in a very personal way." 

"You sound as if you know what you're talking about," Cooper couldn't imagine any man hurting the little doctor. But as she had said earlier, you can't make someone care about you. Some guy out there was a real fool. 

"Hey, we all have out bumps and bangs along the way," Jen kidded. "The best advice I can give you is to be yourself, be kind and be honest. You're still young, Coop. Once you have a better understanding of who you are, then you will have a lot to give to a woman." 

"You don't think I have a lot to give a woman, now?" Coop was hurt, but needed an honest answer. 

"I didn't say that," Jenny patted his hand. "You need to take things slowly, though. It's harder to know what is real feeling and what isn't, when you are still finding yourself." 

"Sometimes you sound a lot like the Colonel." 

"I'll choose to take that as a compliment, my friend," Jenny laughed, not sure how McQueen would feel about it. "You just think about what I said." 

"Dr. Kirkwood, I'd like to tell you who the woman is," Cooper was hesitant. "But you need to keep it a secret." 

"This whole conversation goes under the heading of doctor/patient confidentiality," Jenny had a pretty good idea who the woman was, but wanted to hear it from Cooper. 

"It's Shane," Coop whispered her name. "Do you think I have a chance?" 

"From what I can tell about her, I don't think you have to worry about her opinions of in-vitros." Jenny was thinking back to a few nights before when Shane had come to her to patch-up the results of a fist fight over the issue. "But Shane still has some things to figure out herself, and she's hurting from the death of that young man a week or so ago." 

"Did she love him a whole lot?" Cooper looked miserable, thinking about John Oakes. "It's real scary when you think about someone you care about dying. I'd rather die myself than have her die." 

"Coop, you've got it bad," Jenny smiled and patted his hand. "Anything Shane may have told me, would have been in confidence. Right now, what she needs is a friend. Someone who is there for her, no matter what happens. Try being that friend for a while." 

"She's got West and 'Phousse, for that," Coop sounded grim. 

"Do I detect a bit of jealousy?" 

"She and West are always talking and joking," Coop shrugged. "I know he loves Kylen, but Shane is here and Kylen isn't." 

"Back-up there," Jenny poked his arm to make her point. "There's a difference between caring and loving. Nathan loves Kylen in a special way." Jenny could only shake her head and sigh. "I'm told my father loved my mother that way. When mom died, dad's heart died with her. I hope Nathan isn't like that. But I think that if he had proof tomorrow that Kylen was dead, he would mourn her, and love her all his life. I hope he would live a full life, but I doubt he would ever love like that again. There's an old Chinese proverb: people are like birds with one wing. They are destine to wander the earth until they find their other half. When the two halves join, they fly free, soaring as birds were meant to do........." Jenny gazed into the distance realizing that she would never soar. 

"Lady-Doc?" Cooper shook her arm, realizing that the Doctor was seeing something deep in herself. 

"Sorry, Coop," Jenny came back to reality with a thump. "I was wool-gathering," thinking hard to remember what they had been talking about, when her mind had gown AWOL. "I think you're right to lump Nathan and Vanessa in the same category. Shane treats them both the same." 

"How do you know?" Coop was relieved to see the sad expression gone from Jenny's face. Suddenly, he remembered all the stories he had heard from the men who had been trapped on Kordis with her. The stories about the Marine Major, that she had told them, to keep them occupied. Stories about a man who was dead. 

"I people-watch," Jenny looked around the mess hall. "You should try it, Coop. It helps you learn about people and it can be great fun. Just be sure to be discrete about it. No one likes their privacy invaded. Now, I need to be going." 

"Do you think Patsy, would mind if I wrote to her?" 

"No, I think she would be glad to hear from you," Jenny pulled out a pad and pen that she always carried and began to scribble the address. "It'll give you a different perspective. This is the address," she handed over the paper. 

"Thanks, Lady-Doc," Cooper had never written a letter, but he was going to write this one. "And I really appreciate you listening." 

"Any time, Coop," Jenny stood and gathered the cups. "And I mean that." 

Over in the far corner a set of ice blue eyes watched the Doctor and Lieutenant leave. His head still pounded, but for the first time in over a week, he wasn't dizzy. He would have given a great deal to know what had kept those two talking for over an hour. 

  


  



	4. Ch: 4 Voices In The Dark

ch4.html All characters and plot devices that are taken from Space: Above & Beyond, are property of its writes, producers and owners of the series. Quotes from Te-Tao Ching by Lao-Tzu, translation by Robert G. Henricks; quote from Invictus by William Ernest Henley; quote from Much Ado About Nothing by Wm Shakespeare; quote from The Book Of Five Rings by Miyamoto Musashi, translation by Thomas Cleary; all used with out permission, no copyright infringements intended. The movie that is mentioned is Love In The Afternoon.   


Chapter 4: VOICES IN THE DARK   
  


*The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,   
Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit   
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,   
Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it.*   
...................................... 

Catalina Island February 10, 2064 

Patsy sat on the porch swing. The sun had set long ago, and the stars were out. Upstairs, in the house, Frank Savage was packing. He had said he would be staying a week, but it had only been two days, when the message had arrived. Now, he would be off again, at first light. 

"Patsy, I'm sorry," the tall general came out on the porch and joined the woman who he had come to care about more then he ever thought possible. "I have to be going much sooner than we planned, but before I go, there is something we need to talk about." 

"What's the matter?" Patsy had seen the way Savage reacted to the message when it arrived. He was worried and was trying not to show it. "Is Jenny all right?" 

"I haven't heard anything to the contrary, but this does have to do with her, in a round-about way." Frank hated to bring Patsy into this, but she was the only source of information he had. "Early this evening the In-Vitro Health Facility was blown-up." 

"No!" Patsy's mind went blank, "was anyone hurt?" 

"The Facility has been empty of patients since all of the doctors that ran it 'volunteered' for space assignments, due to the war." The General had been shocked at the blatant lie that had been printed about the closing of the Facility, when he researched the matter on returning from Kordis. "There's a night watchman who's missing and feared dead." 

"Why would anyone want to blow up the building?" Patsy stared at the stars as she had seen Jenny do so often when she was on medical leave. 

"That's what I wanted to ask you about," Savage rubbed the woman's shoulders with his one good hand. "It looks as if the place was broken into before the bombing. A neighbor saw lights in the office area about thirty minutes before the explosion." 

"I don't understand any of this Frank," Patsy shook her head. "The Health Facility was there for eight years. That's the reason Jenny joined the Navy. The only people with funds for in-vitro research were Aerotech and the Navy. She couldn't stomach Aerotech, and she believed in the work they were doing at the Facility." 

"How long was Jenny assigned there?" He probed. 

"She worked there for almost six years, if you count the time she volunteered during her surgical residency. The Navy had her officially stationed there for almost four years, then she was sent to the training center on the moon, for six months. After that she was at Loxley for almost a year. Why are you asking?" Patsy had been questioned by the best in her younger years, she didn't like the feeling she was getting from the man sitting next to her. 

"I'm looking for a pattern here, that's all," he shrugged. "Was it Jenny's book that caused the Navy to send her to the Moonbase? That's not usually an assignment given to a research doctor, no matter how good a surgeon they are." 

"That's what I always assumed, and I heard a friend of hers say the same," turning, she met dark eyes, that she had seen full of affection, but that were now cold. "What aren't you telling me? And don't give me that need to know business. If it concerns Jenny, I need to know!" 

"Pats...." 

"You listen to me, Frank Savage," Patsy had enough of being protected. She was created to be a warrior. Her blood was singing for a battle, and here she was being coddled like a child. "If this is something that could hurt either you or Jenny, I have a right to know." 

"Remember the communications chip I told you about from Kordis? It was a record of all the radio activity from the air strip. When I was going over it the last time, I found an incongruity. At first, it seemed to be nothing. Just in case, I took it to a friend of mine, and he did a bit of searching. What he found was an AI-coded transmission, that was sent from our radio-bunker," Savage spoke softly, the night enveloping them. 

"But who? Why?" Patsy was outraged. "What did the message say?" 

"The who, I don't know. The why, I'm not sure. The timing is such, that it looks as if it was an attempt to kill Jenny, and make it look as if she died in battle." Savage was relieved to be able to talk to someone about this, but he was worried that he was putting Patsy in more danger. "I had just sent my third plea to have Jenny transferred off of Kordis. Within two hours we had our hands full keeping the Chigs off our backs. Unfortunately, we have no way to decode the message, so we don't know what it said." 

"Maybe it was just a coincidence?" Patsy wanted badly to believe it was. 

"We had been too well hidden, for too long," this had eaten at Savage for a long time. "I never understood how they could just surprise us like they did." 

"If someone would have a unit of men wiped out to kill Jenny, then what's to stop them from taking out the Saratoga?" Patsy didn't doubt that Frank was telling her the truth. "What I don't understand is why anyone would want to kill her? She never hurt anyone in her life." 

"If we can figure that out," Frank smiled. "Then it should lead us to who might be after her." 

"Tell me what I can do to help?" She would do anything to help the woman who was like a daughter to her. 

"I want to go over the last two or three years of Jenny's life, tell me anything you can, no matter how insignificant it may seem. We may be able to find a pattern." He leaned over and caressed her cheek, "you know that isn't how I wanted to spend tonight, don't you?" 

"I know," Patsy whispered, then found her voice again. "Tell me again that Jenny's safe where she is." 

"Glen Ross is a friend of mine. He runs a tight ship, besides, I think he's placed her in a squad where she'll get extra protection." Savage smiled as he remembered a cool-eyed Colonel, who looked at Jenny in a possessive way. "You wouldn't know a Lt. Col. Tyrus McQueen, would you?" 

"McQueen? I knew him," Patsy wondered what was going on. "It was almost a relief when Jenny got the telegram from the Marines telling us he was dead. The waiting to hear just about killed her." 

"Are we talking about the same man?" Frank wondered, "he was with the Angry Angels, in-vitro, about six feet tall, silver hair, doesn't say much, but when he does, it's worth listening to?" 

"That's him," Patsy frowned. "Did you know him?" 

"I know him *now*. It was his squad that pulled us off Kordis. He's very much alive." Frank grinned at her, "Technically he's Jenny's commanding officer, but unless she's changed in the last month or two, I think it'll be a battle to see who runs the show. There's something between them, isn't there?" 

"It isn't what you're thinking," Patsy shook her head. "But there was something there. At first, he was her patient, so she never let herself see what she was feeling. Then when she was assigned to the Angry Angels, I don't know,..... they were friends, but....? I would watch them together, it was like watching two people shadow box. If he's the one who's looking out for Jenny, she won't come to any physical harm." 

"But you're worried that he might hurt her in other ways?" Savage wondered if it would have been better to have had Jenny assigned to him, as his personal doctor. He could have watched her back, but at the time he didn't think it was necessary. 

"He wouldn't do it on purpose," it was easy for Patsy to say these things in the dark, and maybe it would help Frank understand her a bit better. "He's an in-vitro with a capital 'I'. The kind that has learned to survive by holding himself apart, keeping any emotions he might feel tight within him." 

"That's not like you at all," Savage leaned close and kissed her cheek. 

"No, I had Jenny. She taught me so much, but unfortunately, I wasn't able to teach her about the caring of a woman for a men." Holding his face close enough so she could see his eyes in the black of night. "I didn't discover until recently that I didn't understand it myself." 

"That's not such a bad thing." Savage whispered. 

"You just say that because you like being the man who taught me about it," Patsy kidded. "But, Jenny trusted McQueen from the day she met him. He was in detox for Green Meanies at the time. The doctor in Jenny didn't let her see the man. It was the man she trusted, not the patient, but she didn't realize it, let alone understand it. I'm not sure she even understood in that year she was with the Angels. They would come here all the time to sail, but....I don't know?" Patsy shrugged and shook her head. "When she was hurt at an In-Vitro Rights rally, he pulled away from her. It only added to her confusion and hurt. She watched the battle that killed the Angry Angels from the deck of her boat. I don't know how she was able to bring the *Windswept* in. She walked around here like she had died with her squad. When she got the telegram, she packed and left. I haven't seen her since." 

"All the more reason we need to get this thing solved," Frank brought the subject back to where it began. "Start from the beginning and tell me all you know about Jenny's actions since just before she started writing The In-Vitro Chronicles." 

Frank and Patsy sat on the swing and talked late into the night. 

"Does Jenny have anything around here from her research for the book?" Savage stood and stretched. "I can't help wondering if that might be what someone was trying to destroy when they bombed the Facility." 

"Yes, all her research is filed away in her desk," Patsy stood with Savage's help, her injured right leg not wanting to hold her weight. 

"Can you pack it up for me?" Savaged watched the woman he cared about work to get her balance. "I want to send it by my special courier to Jenny. She's the one to go through it, to see if there's something there worth killing all those people for. And I'll feel safer if it isn't in the house with you." 

"It'll only take a few minutes," Patsy took a tentative step, glad her knee would hold her. "It's all on compressed disks." 

"I need to make a phone call. I'm putting off my departure until Mark Gomez can get here. He's been my attache for years," holding Patsy's hand and giving it a squeeze. "You can trust him. He's the man who went over the crystal for me and found the hidden signal." 

"Frank, wouldn't it be easier to just turn this all over to Diane Hayden?" Patsy was worried about meeting a person who meant so much to Savage. "How is this man going to feel about me?" 

"It would be easier, but not safer. With all I've learned, I don't trust Hayden, anymore. Especially since she's become engaged to Stryker. That man is not what he seems," he could feel Patsy digested the information. "Don't worry about Mark. I want him here to keep you safe, while I'm gone." 

"I do worry about him," Patsy sighed, knowing this would be the first test of their relationship, and glad for the covering of the darkest part of night. "I am still an in-vitro. I would imagine that anyone on your staff, would have your political leanings. You were a major supporter of Nicholas Chaput. You never made any secret of your dislike for in-vitros." 

"No, but I was wrong," he reached for Patsy and held her face in his one good hand. "I was very wrong. People like you, Jenny, McQueen and some other amazing people taught me how wrong I was. I had judged all in-vitros by the actions of one, who had gotten a number of men killed in my squad in the AI war. And no, I don't think all in-vitros are perfect, just because I am in love with one, anymore then I think all natural-borns are perfect." 

"Frank....?" 

"Yes I said 'love', I wasn't planning on springing it on you so fast, but get used to it," he leaned in and kissed her. "We'll work it out as we go along. Now, I need to make that phone call."   
..................................... 

February 12, 2064, New York - Diane Hayden's working residence 

Diane Hayden relaxed in bed. She had the drowsy feeling of a woman well sated by love making. Smiling she realized that she and Carleton did their most creative planning at times like this. Maybe it was because when they lay in the dark, their bodies so close, it bound them tighter together. She was blind since birth, and lived in a world of mostly dark and shades of gray. With the two of them wrapped in the cocoon of darkness, their voices low, it brought him closer to her, than in planning sessions in the light of day. 

"I didn't find anything when I checked out the offices of the Facility," Stryker whispered. He had searched Diane's bedroom for bugging devices, but he was still careful not to raise his voice. "If there was anything on the property, it's gone now. The fire following the explosion, turned everything to ash." 

"It should look like just another terrorist action against in-vitros," Diane grinned. "I'll make a scathing statement against it in tomorrow's news briefing. You should be standing beside me, looking equally upset." 

"It was a stroke of genius, when you quoted from Kirkwood's book at your inauguration," Stryker laughed. "You were the perfect indignant In-Vitro Rights Leader, throwing out the Loyalty Testing, like you did. We couldn't have anyone looking too closely at those test sessions. Especially, after what happened on the Saratoga." It still made Stryker angry to think that he had taken the chance of being exposed. Making the trip out there to administer the drug and mind influencing to that in-vitro Marine, himself, and for nothing. Chaput had survived. 

"Thank goodness for Thompson, Chaput's bodyguard. We were smart to be sure he never knew where his orders were coming from. He ended up the fall guy for both assassination attempts," Diane snuggled closer to Stryker. "But it was still too close for my liking." 

"You worry too much Di," he kissed her forehead. "I've always been very careful to keep my real feelings about Tanks a secret, just as you have. Yes, I have my little forays to torment Equal Rights workers, but I'm always very careful. I've even got two Tanks working on my staff," he laughed at the irony of it. 

"Are they the last of the 'mind influenced' ones?" 

"Yes, too bad we couldn't have kept more of them around. It was so easy to kill Chartwell and shift the blame by using one of them. No one looked further." He had modeled his plan after Hitler. Find a minority and place all the blame on them. Using it to bind a divided country and build a political base for himself and Diane, but he hadn't gotten that far. 

As soon as Diane was elected, he had planned for them to come out as the voice of reason against Tanks. What would be more damning? Two people who had in the past, appeared, to be pro-in-vitro to change their positions because of the killings of Chartwell and Chaput at the hands of Tanks. Stryker could feel the resentment against 'those doctors' again. They had ruined a perfectly good plan. Once they got involved, he and Diane had to move quickly to make sure none of it came back to them. "I can't believe it was that ass Chaput who helped us by instigating the loyalty testing. It kept everyone angry. Giving us time to kill off any of them that might be a problem and make it look like retribution by angered natural borns." 

"He may be an ass, but we need to keep an eye on him," Diane shifted to rub against the man she loved. "He's not stupid. Too bad, we weren't able to kill him. A third attempt on his life, would be too dangerous." 

"Have you heard anything from your AI friend?" Stryker nibbled at her ear. 

"No, he was only supposed to send the one message. I am assuming that no news is good news. The reports I'm getting from the front are still full of Chiggy Von Richthofen," Diane felt Carleton shiver as she moved closer to him. They both found power to be a very strong aphrodisiac. 

"Do you think the Chigs realize the AI's are really working for us?" The man whispered as he shifted above her. 

"No," Diane purred as she felt his skin against hers. "No more than anyone realizes that my greatest wish is to pound those bugs into oblivion, instead of make peace with them. Even the AI we sent to take care of Sewell thought I was doing it as a gesture toward peace negotiations with the Chigs. Sewell's life and the return of the ore in exchange for opening a private dialogue with them." 

"When this all hits the fan, Aerotech and E. Allan Wayne will take the blame and we will be there to pick up the riches," Carleton nibbled at her ear. "With some careful guidance from us, Aerotech will topple and we'll be in the clear." 

"The timing is the question," Diane whispered, as her hands moved over his back. "We should make use of the AI's for as long as possible, they are a wonderful source of information and so handy for doing little odd jobs. Is the virus ready in case we need to terminate them sooner than we had planned?" 

"Yes, my dear, all we need to do is push a button and it'll be downloaded into their mainframe. Within a few days they will begin to sicken and die. I've tested a lighter dose version on a planet in one of the outer sectors." Stryker smiled as he remembered the surprise on the faces of those machine/men. "They began to feel emotions as they became weaker not realizing that the emotions were draining their power cells." 

"I would have loved to see that," Hayden's throaty laugh filled the room as her hands moved up and down Stryker's back. "Think of all we've done, Carl. In the last ten years we have risen from obscurity and poverty to this." With one hand she indicated the room around her. 

"We did it together," he caressed and kissed her throat as he began to work his way to her breasts. "You discovered the failsafe that Aerotech built into many of the in-vitro DNA structures it was creating. I uncovered the truth about the ore sample that Aerotech has had hidden in its Space Science Labs since the turn of the century." 

"Ohhhh, that feels so good," Diane rocked against the man who was sending wild sensations through her body. "Tell me Carl, please tell me the story that excites me so." 

Stryker laughed, he loved to see the most powerful woman in the world reduced to quivering passion and just for him. 

"We will take over what's left of Aerotech when it falls, for starting a war with the Chigs over Sewell Fuel." He leaned down and began kissing his way down her body. "Once the Chigs are wiped from the universe, the Fuel and at least two planets that are rich with it will be ours. When Earth discovers Aerotech's duplicity, the powerful Hayden/Stryker team will guide a weary Earth to peace. If the AI's try to give us any trouble, I've got the virus ready to send their way. When we are truly at the top, will be time to bring the damn Tanks back under control, by using the genetic back-up plan that was added to their DNA structure. Earth will belong to human's again and we will rule it. Growing richer with each planet that comes under our control." He punctuated the last few words by biting his way down her neck and across her breasts. 

"Not yet Di, not yet," he called out as he pulled back from her. He loved hearing her gasping in the dark, it added to his feelings of power, which added to his own enjoyment. "We have a long way to go before we finish." 

He had introduced her to the seamer side of love making. It thrilled him to see her, always so cool and calm, out of control under his hands. She was the perfect lady, with passion that no one had been able to reach, until he came along. For him she was anything but a lady and it gave them both such pleasure. *"Now which should it be tonight,*" he thought as he opened the drawer they always kept locked, beside the bed. 

"Yes we have a very long night, my love," he murmured as he cuffed her hands to the headboard and was rewarded with her gasp of surprise.   
...............................   
  
The Saratoga February 17, 2064 

The Tun Tavern was doing it's usual brisk business on a Saturday night. The Wildcards were sitting at their table playing another in an endless series of poker games, when Jenny Kirkwood joined them. 

"Hi guys, room for one more?" She smiled and moved a chair between Vansen and Damphousse. 

"Sure, we'll take anyone's money, you know that," Wang tossed in his cards in disgust. That left McQueen and Hawkes to fight it out. 

"I'll be right back, I'm going to get something from the bar, anyone want something while I'm up? 

"You buyin', Lady-Doc?" Hawkes grinned at her. 

"In you're dreams Hawkes," she giggled at the young man as she turned toward the bar. 

McQueen sat with his squad, thankful that Jen hadn't pulled her chair next to him and that he had the forethought to order a beer tonight, instead of scotch. His eyes watched the the small woman move through the crowd to the bar, then turned his attention back to his cards. 

Laughing at a joke the bartender told her, Jen turned, still talking over her shoulder to the woman behind the bar, and headed back to her table, wine glass in hand. She didn't see the big, rather drunk Marine who was in her path and ran right into him. 

"Hi there, you cute thing." The surprised young man said to the woman who filled his arms. 

"Pardon me," Jenny looked up and stepped away from him. 

"That's okay, darlin', you're the softest thing I've felt in a long time," he grinned at her as his hands moved to keep her from getting away from him. 

"Sargent, you have the wrong idea," Jenny put steel into her voice as she stepped away from him. "Move out of my way and I'll forget this incident happened." 

"You sure I can't change your mind about that, little darlin'?" The Marine reached for Jenny again. 

"That is little darlin' Ma'am to you, Sargent!" Jenny ground out in her best imitation of McQueen. "Stand at attention when I am addressing you!" 

At the table across the room, McQueen's eyes froze and his hands tightened around his cards, as he watched a young Marine try to back Jen against the bar. "Vansen, Damphousse, over there?" He motioned with his head, while never taking his eyes off the woman at the bar. Every instinct in him shouted to get up and pull the man away from Jen, but he knew that if any of the male 58th backed her up, it would end in a fight. "See what you can do, we'll watch your six. I don't want her in a bar fight! Understood?" 

"Yes sir," the two young women took off, knowing why they had been sent. 

"I never would've pegged McQueen for a male chauvinist," Phousse whispered to her friend as they wove their way through the crowd. 

"Do you need any help here, Lieutenant Commander?" Shane thought Jenny had things pretty well in hand, but she wasn't taking any chances. 

"Thank you, Lieutenants," Jenny smiled at the women who had come to her aid. "I was just explaining to the Sargent, that if he didn't want to find himself with a bilateral orchectomy in the morning, he would let me pass." 

"An orchid-what-a-me?" The drunk Marine was confused, but pleased finding himself surrounded by lovely women. 

"Lets just put it this way," Jenny grinned an evil grin. "You would be singing soprano for the rest of your life. Shall we go back to our cards, Lieutenants?" 

"Sargent, you need to be careful of this woman." 'Phouse's eyes danced as she whispered, "she's been known to take off a man's arm with a k-bar." 

"Aaa, Ma'am," the young Marine turned white, as the three women moved around him. "I..a..thought you were, well were..." 

"I wasn't! Dismissed Sargent," Jenny kept her face ridged as the young man moved quickly away, though she fought the laughter that was building up inside. "Is that what you guys call a strategic redeployment to the rear?" 

"You mean a retreat!" Shane laughed, pointing to the frightened young man moving quickly away from them. 

"Thanks guys, but I really did have it covered," Jenny sipped her drink as they pushed through the crowd. 

"We figured you probably did," 'Phousse laughed. 

"But the Colonel didn't like the looks of what was happening," Shane looked back at Jenny and shrugged as if to say *'men, who can understand 'em?'* The congestion in the bar bringing the women to a stand-still. 

"Oh, no," Jenny muttered as she looked over at the table. McQueen had relaxed his hold on his cards, but he was still watching her with unreadable eyes. 

"The Colonel takes care of his own, Ma'am," 'Phousse patted the older woman on the arm as they began to move again. 

"Pardon?" Jenny stopped, pulling Vanessa to a halt. 

"You're one of us," 'Phousse shrugged. "McQueen watches out for the Wildcards. That includes you too." 

Later that evening, McQueen looked up from his cards and found Commodore Ross standing in the door to the Tun, worry evident on his face, until his eyes met McQueen's. Ross nodded slightly to the Colonel, then shifted his glance to Jenny. Nodded his head and motioned for them both to join him. 

"You'll have to excuse us," McQueen folded his cards. "Jen, I think think we're needed elsewhere." 

Jenny followed McQueen's gaze and bit her lip at the lack of expression on Glen Ross' face. This felt too familiar for comfort. 

"My office, you two," Ross turned as Jenny and McQueen followed him. 

Jenny didn't say a word but she felt her insides quake as they walked in silence. *"This can't be good,"* she thought. As she tried to empty her mind of worry, a firm hand gripped her shoulder from behind. She reached up, instinctively covering McQueen's hand where it rested on her shoulder. Silently thanking him for the moment of reassurance, before they separated and kept on walking. 

"I want to thank you both for coming so quickly," Ross took a seat in the lounge area of his office. He indicated for Jenny and McQueen to make themselves comfortable on the couch facing him. "I've had more news from General Savage, Jenny." 

"I was afraid of that," she gripped her hands to keep from playing with her bracelet. 

"Doctor," Ross began. "This is still classified. I would like Colonel McQueen in on this conversation, not only because he's your commanding officer, but I trust his judgment. Since this is a personal matter as well as a military one, I'm leaving the choice up to you. I can fill him in on the pertinent data later." 

"A..., Ty?" Jenny turned to McQueen. Troubled gray eyes met clear blue ones. She was frightened and wanted him here, but asking for help wasn't part of her upbringing. 

"I'm here for you, Jen," McQueen saw fear and doubt cross her face, replaced by relief at his words. 

Ross watched the silent communication that was going on between his friend and the Doctor. The air of intimacy that surrounded the two, was almost palpable. Just as quickly as it had arisen, it disappeared when a loud thump from the corridor brought the two people back to the present. 

"As long as the Colonel is in agreement, I would like him in on this," Jenny began to babble, a sure sign she was nervous. McQueen sat back, his usual calm restored. 

"All right then," Ross reached for the packet that had come less than an hour ago. "There is no easy way to say this, so I'll just say it. A few days ago, the building that was the In-Vitro Health Facility was bombed and burned to the ground." 

"No!" Jenny gasped. "Was anyone hurt?" 

"The night watchman is unaccounted for and presumed dead," Ross was as gentle as he could be but he knew this wasn't going to be easy for her. 

"What's the Navy doing to find who ever did this?" Jen demanded. 

"I'm afraid the Navy has bigger fish to fry," Ross shrugged. "We have a war on. The building was empty of all Navy personnel and they had been renting it to begin with, so it isn't much of a priority." 

"Sir, is this considered another terrorist attack on In-Vitro Rights workers?" McQueen was afraid this was following the pattern that had started in Houston. 

"I was just getting to that," Ross pulled opened the packet he had been holding. "This is a letter from General Savage. He thinks there is more to this bombing then just a terrorist act. One of the neighbors saw lights on in the third floor office area of the building. It could be nothing, then again it could be something. You are the only one alive who can tell us what was kept in those offices, Doctor." 

"The third floor was all personal offices," Jen thought hard to be sure she wasn't missing something. "We didn't even keep patient files there, unless it was someone we were seeing that day. Medical Records was in the basement." 

"What about any research any of you were working on?" Ross probed. 

"There was never much funding for research," Jen shook her head. "It always seemed as if we needed every penny for patient care. There was the occasional grant, but nothing big. The offices on the third floor were where we saw patients and conducted any business. We used them when we met with visiting Brass and family members of patients when it was called for. And, of course the press, on occasions. Our real work was done in a number of small offices scattered through out the building." 

"Where did you do your research?" Ross questioned. 

"I hadn't been stationed there in eighteen months, before the war," Jen tried to remember if she had left anything of importance in the building. "I used the call room off the detox ward to do most of my work. If a file was really important, I kept it in my briefcase, with a back-up copy at home. The computers were all encrypted so that we could use a terminal in any of the offices. I don't know what the others were working on when we were sent our separate ways. I had been waiting to hear from a number of grant proposals that went by the wayside when I was sent to Moonbase." 

"What about your research for The In-Vitro Chronicles?" Ross spoke softly into the silence. 

"Oh my God!" Jenny sat forward, all her attention on Ross. "But that was years ago. There isn't anything in that.........Oh NO, all of that is stored in my desk at home on Catalina......We have to get Patsy out of there!" 

"No, it isn't, it's here," Ross smiled as he opened the package and pulled out a small stack of mini-disks. "And Frank is taking care of Patsy. He'll keep her safe." 

"But I don't understand," Jen looked from Ross to McQueen. "I can't think of anything in the research or my book that isn't already a matter of public record. Anyone with the computer skills of a first grader can access any of it." 

"Jenny, this is the only clue we have to go on," Ross patted her hand, realizing she was keeping a tight reign on her emotions. "General Savage wants you to go over these records with a fine tooth comb. There may be something in here that you don't know you've got." 

"What a fool I was," Jen ground out. "All those years ago, you were right, Ty. I can still remember my righteous indignation, when you and Patsy tried to talk me out of writing that book. Then I walked off in a huff, so convinced that I was going to open the eyes of the world to a terrible wrong. All along it was my eyes that needed to be opened!" 

"Stop it, Jen," McQueen gave her shoulders a gentle shake. Both the man and the woman had forgotten Ross was sitting across from them. "For all we know your research isn't what they were after." 

"Can you tell me honestly that you believe that?" Jen shot back. 

"The pattern is suspect," McQueen agreed. "But I find it hard to believe that someone would wait over four years to try and destroy it." 

"Okay," Jen tried to smile, but couldn't pull it off. "I just wish I had listened to you, back then." 

"When you showed me the first two chapters, how much research had already been done?" McQueen pointed out. 

"All of it," Jen sighed. "But if the book hadn't been published, whoever may be threatened by it, might not have known of it's existence?" 

"Jen, you're chasing shadows," McQueen chided. "Go through your notes and see what you find. Anything I can do to help, just let me know." 

"Are there any other copies of your notes?" Ross hated to interrupt. He had never seen McQueen interact with a woman the way he was with Jenny. Ross doubted the Marine even realized his actions were out of character. "I would like to make a back-up copy to keep in my safe, if it's all the same to you Dr. Kirkwood?" 

"That's not a problem with me, Sir, and probably a good idea, since this is the only copy," Jenny handed the disks back to Ross. "I'll start working on them as soon as I get them back from you. Is there any more news in that packet I should know about?" 

"No, only this letter," Ross handed Jenny an envelope with Patsy's hand writing on it. 

"Thank you Commodore," Jenny smiled as she saw who the letter was from. "If that's all, I'll say good-night?" 

After Jenny had left, Ross reached into the bag and pulled out another letter, this one addressed to McQueen. "You have one, too." 

McQueen looked at the envelope, he had never gotten a real letter before, "thank you, Sir." 

"You've know Dr. Kirkwood a long time, haven't you?" Ross began making encrypted copies of Jenny's disks. 

McQueen turned from Ross to look out the porthole at the stars. "She was my doctor in detox, that second time." 

"She took you on in the state you were in that last time on Greens?" Ross shook his head, "the woman has more courage than sense." 

"Don't tell her that unless you want a fight on your hands," McQueen smiled at a memory he wasn't going to share with his friend. "Sir, do you think those disks are the reason behind the bombing at the Facility?" 

"I don't have the answer to that, Ty." Ross finished coping the last disk and put his copies in his safe. "But if I were a betting man, I would put my money on the disks shedding some light on what's going on. Though I get the feeling it's not going to be that easy. Would you take these to Jenny?" 

"Yes, Sir," McQueen pocketed the disks. "I'm tempted to wait until morning, so she gets some sleep tonight." 

"Drop them off tonight, Ty," Ross smiled at his friend's concern. "I doubt she'll sleep until she has them in her possession. This is a bad business, no matter how you cut it. And I am afraid that Jenny is in the middle of it, somehow." 

After McQueen left, Ross poured himself a drink and settled back in his chair. He felt as if he was missing some important information that was just outside his grasp. Too much was happening at once to keep it all straight. What did notes from a book that was published almost four years ago have to do with a bombing that took place four days ago? Though the bombing added weight to Savage's theory that someone was trying to kill all the doctors who ran the Facility, it was hard to imagine why. Even harder to imagine who. 

Then there was Jenny, a woman who at first glance seemed to be as transparent as a pane of glass, but there was more to her. She wasn't glass, she was cut crystal, who diffused the light. Tonight when Ross had watched McQueen and Jenny interact, he recognized dark centers in both of them. McQueen's hidden by darkness and Jenny's by light. 

Ross knew that it was Jenny's light that dazzled him. Yes, he was attracted to her, found her desirable, what man wouldn't? But it was her lightness of being that brought him joy. Few women in his life made him think *"what if things were different, what if his heart wasn't already taken by a lady named Saratoga.*" Jenny was a keeper, therefore not for him. Besides, she belonged to someone else. A someone who had added to the darkness at her center. A someone who if he wasn't dead, was a damn fool! The Commodore chuckled as he put down his glass, between lack of sleep and one drink too many he was becoming a philosopher.   
..................................... 

Saratoga, Jenny's Quarters February 17, 2064- 2345 hours 

Jenny sat at her desk reading Patsy's letter for the forth time. It sounded as if Patsy was in love. That changed things. Jenny had already decided to resign her commission when the war was over. She had assumed she would go home to Catalina and open a practice. But now, that didn't seem fair to Patsy. Jenny wanted Patsy free to make her own choices about her life.   
................................ 

March 2, 2064, Saratoga 

As the days moved on, Jenny's life took on a pattern. Her spare time was allotted into windows to do the things necessary to keep her body going. An hour in the gym, usually in the very early morning, helped keep her sane, as well as fit. Eating three meals a day, even if she wasn't hungry, prevented the shakes from too much caffeine. If she wasn't working in Sickbay, she made herself turn off her computer, put away the disks and go to bed no later then 2330. Sleep didn't always come, but at least her body was resting. 

Jenny seemed to move between two worlds. The one world was in Sickbay where wounded poured in. Always another battle against death to be fought. Her batting average in surgery was high, but sometimes she wondered why she patched the young people up, just to send them out to a hospital ship to become well enough to fight again. Then a month or so later she would find them back on her operating table. The pattern starting all over. 

The other world took her back four years to what her life had been when she still thought one person could make a difference. She walked the corridors of information on in-vitro development, digging and searching for missing clues. A clue that would tell her why four men she had worked with had died along with all the soldiers they were with. A clue that would explain the senseless deaths of the people who hadn't made it off of Kordis. One hundred people had been stationed on that air strip. How many had died while providing cover so that an ISSCV that was destined to crash in the south, would make it off the northern continent?   
...............................   
  
The Saratoga, March 9, 2064 

The fighting was getting worse. Recently, she had begun labeling days by the number of men and women who died in Sickbay on her shift. Today had been a good day. They had saved more than fifty percent of the soldiers that had been brought in. All she wanted to do was sleep, but she was sorely tempted to turn on her computer and work on the disks. *"It's only 2245 hours, I can get in a little bit of work tonight,*" she thought as she flipped the switch to turn on the machine, before heading for a quick shower. Jenny hadn't realized she had collected this much information before writing her book. 

After showering, she pulled McQueen's sweat shirt over her tank top. There was just enough of the scent of the man left in the shirt to keep her from crumbling completely. She usually didn't wear it, but used it like a child would a security blanket. Tonight she needed protection against the ghosts that were haunting her more and more frequently as she searched for answers she was afraid she would find. 

"Lady-Doc," the strained voice of Nathan West brought Jenny back from the study of her notes. 

"Nathan....,"opening her hatch, Jenny found a battle weary and dirty Marine standing in her door. "What happened?" 

"I..." Nathan looked around the small cabin that Jenny had pulled him into. He didn't know where his feet had been leading him when he left the ISSCV after extraction from their mission. "It's my brother, Neil. He he's....*dead*," Nathan whispered the last word. Wanting no one to hear it, then maybe he could go on believing it wasn't so. 

"Oh Nathan," Jenny put her arms around the exhausted Marine. "I can't tell you it's okay, because it's not," she whispered as she rocked him back and forth. They stood with their arms around each other. "Let it all out, Nathan, just let it out." 

"Jenny I tried to protect him," he gasp between sobs as he clutched the older woman to him, needing the comfort she was giving him. "I tried, really I did, but he just wouldn't listen! I'm the big brother, I was supposed to take care of him, but he wouldn't listen to me!" 

"Shhh, Nathan," Jenny stroked his back as she held onto him. "It's not your fault. It's this war." 

Nathan let his pain wash over him, feeling again what he felt when he held Neil's body in his arms and realized his brother wasn't coming home. For the first time since Kylen, Nathan leaned on another human being. He was tired of being strong; tired of burying his feelings; tired of going only on faith. Maybe, Paul had the right idea at Christmas when he had doubted his own faith. 

"I'm sorry, Lady-Doc." Minutes later, Nathan pulled back, embarrassed that he had let go completely. 

"Wait a second, Lieutenant," Jenny called him back as he tried to escape. "Not so fast. Sit down and talk to me," she pulled out her desk chair as she turned off her computer. "Sit here and talk." 

"Doc, I really should be getting back," Nathan tried to get away. "I haven't even showered yet. I'm filthy." 

"Nathan, sit!" Jenny ordered. "I'm not worried about a little dirt, but I am worried about you. So talk to me, tell me about Neil." 

"He followed this hard-charging Lieutenant into battle." Nathan spoke bitterly as he remember the inexperienced man who had led his brother's squad. "Harrick disobeyed orders and compromised the mission, getting his whole squad killed, including my brother, in the process." 

"Nathan, you make it sound as if Neil had no say in those last hours on planet," Jenny pushed. 

"He was a rookie, lead by a rookie," Nathan challenged. "How was he to know what to do?" 

"Neil was a Marine!" Jenny emphasized. "He was given orders and he followed them. From what you say, he made a choice." 

"But..." 

"No," Jenny gripped his arm. "He made a choice. It was Neil's choice. That's what you need to understand and accept. Now sit back down and tell me about Neil, all about Neil." 

Nathan sat, and the stories poured out of him. Neil as a child. Neil's first day at school. Nathan teasing Neil when the younger man went on his first date. The endless games of 'kill the guy with the ball.' The one and only time the two of them had double dated. The time Nathan discovered that Neil had a crush on Kylen. 

Jenny and Nathan sat in her quarters for a long time, laughing and crying at the stories Nathan told. 

"You know who Neil reminds me of?" Jenny grinned at the young man. 

"No, Ma'am," Nathan shook his head as he was brought into the present by her words. 

"He sounds a lot like Coop at times," she smiled. "Like a young man who was looking for himself." 

"Coop?" Nathan frowned. "Well maybe when Neil was a lot younger." 

"That's what I mean, but Neil grew-up," Jenny covered Nathan's hands with hers. "The stories you tell of Neil were when he was young. That doesn't sound like the man I met on the Saratoga. You need to find the stories that went in-between. The ones that let him die a man's death, making his own decisions. Instead of a child's death, having no say in what happened." 

"Shane said almost the same thing, but I won't accept that!" Nathan denied what he was being told, "he shouldn't have died." 

"None of us should have to die in this war," Jenny looked far away, seeing another squad that had died at another time. "You can't bring him back Nathan, but you need to go on." 

"There are no more stories," Nathan swung to his feet, denying all his brother had become. "There is nothing in-between" 

"Nathan," Jenny was gentle in the face of his anger. "As long as you tell stories about Neil, he'll live. He'll be alive in your memory and in the memories of those who hear the stories." 

"Is that why you stopped telling stories of your Major?" Nathan attacked. "To keep him alive? Because if it is, he died when you were picked up off of Kordis!" 

"OH!" Jenny recoiled as his words hit her like bullets. "You heard about those stories?" She whispered. 

"Sure, everyone did," Nathan reached for the woman, but she pulled away. "I'm sorry Jenny, I didn't mean to hurt you. I was hurting and I hit out at you. I'm sorry." 

"That's all right Nathan," Jen stood and walked to her porthole, letting the stars give her comfort. "It's not what you're thinking. They were stories, that's all. At the time they needed to be told. There's no need for them now," Jen whispered.   
  
"You don't have to explain it to me, Jenny," Nathan spoke softly. He could feel Kylen very close at that moment. "I understand. I've been there. Sometimes it takes time to be able to tell the stories that mean the most to us." 

Jenny watched in silence as Nathan left. How could she explain the truth to him, or anyone. Keeping her promise to herself, she left her computer off and climbed into her bunk. Her mind kept wandering to McQueen, wondering if he had heard the stories and if he recognized himself in them. He was such a private person, maybe he didn't. * "Ha, Jen, keep lying to yourself like that and maybe you'll believe it, given ten or twenty years!"*   
................................ 

Down the hall, the object of Jenny's thoughts was wrestling with thoughts of his own. Lt. Col. McQueen was trying to write a letter. He had written plenty of letters in his time as an officer, but all those letters had been dictated by the Corps and what he had felt about the men who had served under him. This was a personal letter. One he didn't want to write, but knew if he didn't, he would always regret it. 

When Ross had first handed him the letter from Patsy Howard, he had assumed it would be asking about Jenny. He'd been wrong. Patsy had written to him the man, not the in-vitro, nor the Colonel or commanding officer of the squad that Jenny was assigned to. Only the last sentences had anything to do with Jenny. 

He read it again, trying to figure out what Patsy was telling him. *When dealing with Jenny just remember these things. 'The good closer of doors does so without bolt or lock, and yet the door cannot be opened; The good tier of knots ties without rope or cord, yet his knots can't be undone........ That which has no substance gets into that which has no spaces or cracks.' I'm sure you recognize the two quotes from the Te-Tao Ching. I wish you luck and keep yourself safe.* 

*"What was she trying to tell him about Jen?"* He shook his head as he reread the lines. He knew them well, but applying them to Jen was a different matter. McQueen tossed down his pen in disgust. He had to get this letter written to Patsy, the mail shuttle was due soon.   
.................................. 

Saratoga April 2, 2064 

The ISSCV carrying mail had finally arrived, bring news and word from home. Cooper Hawkes had watched from a distance as people gathered around the mail. He understood, for the first time, why his friends looked forward to mail call with such excitement. He had written a letter and it had gone out on the last mail shuttle. He knew in his head that it was impossible for Patsy Howard to have received his letter, then answer it, in the few weeks that had passed. Though there was a strange excitement in him when he thought what it would be like when she did answer and his name was called, telling him he had mail. 

The Colonel had told him mail call was no place for Tanks, but Cooper was beginning to see that maybe Jenny was right when she said that just because something worked for the Colonel, it wasn't necessarily right for him. 

There had been mail for Coop, and for McQueen too. Though Coop wasn't sure how he felt about the letter he had received, from the Armed Services Network. They were doing a special on in-vitros in the military and wanted to interview him. He would have much preferred a letter from Patsy, the woman who had raised Jenny, but this was a start. Hawkes took one look at his commander and he knew McQueen wasn't happy about the letters they had both received. 

Remembering the faces of his friends as they read their mail, Coop wondered if mail from home didn't cause more problems than joy. Paul and Vanessa were happy about what they got, but Nathan and Shane were upset. The Colonel was still in a temper from the letters they had gotten. Ross was making McQueen play along, and the Colonel didn't like it one bit. 

Jenny had just gotten off duty when she heard about the mail shuttle. She doubted there would be anything for her, since Patsy had sent a letter with Savage's special courier just a few weeks ago. A shower then a meal was tops on her list. 

"Dr. Kirkwood," Glen Ross caught her in the corridor outside her quarters. "May I have a word with you in private?" 

"Yes, Sir," Jenny punched in her code and Ross followed her in. 

"There is going to be a camera crew from the Armed Forces Network, on the Saratoga," Ross took the chair that Jenny offered at her desk. "They're going to be here filming a documentary on in-vitros in the war." 

"No," Jenny held up her hand as if to ward off what was being said. "That's not good." 

"Good or bad isn't for me to say, Jenny," Ross smiled at her response. "I wanted to warn you of their presence and advise you to stay out of their way." 

"Then it's not me they're looking for?" The doctor looked relieved as she sat on the side of her bunk. 

"No, but in some ways it would be easier if it was," Ross grimaced as he remembered McQueen's response to having to give an interview. "They're here to film Hawkes and McQueen." 

"The Colonel's not going to like it when he finds out," Jenny knew McQueen was a private person, who believed that deeds spoke louder than words. 

"He already knows," Ross patted her hand. "But that's my job. Your job is to keep a low profile. When they checked the ship's roster, they must have been checking for in-vitros only, or your name would have been spit out with Hawkes' and McQueen's. If we're lucky, they won't catch on that you're here. I'm making Sickbay off limits to them." 

"I've got plenty to keep me busy," Jenny motioned to her computer. "You don't have to worry about me." 

"Have you come across anything that might be of help to us?" Ross knew Jenny was working as fast as she could, but he was impatient to get this over with. 

"No, Sir," Jenny shrugged. "So far there isn't a thing that's worth killing over, but I'm still looking." 

"Dr. Kirkwood," Hawkes knocked on Jenny's door. "I picked up your mail." 

"Coop, thanks," she opened the hatch, letting in the tall Marine who had a large box balanced on his shoulder. 

"I didn't mean to interrupt," Hawkes was surprised to find the Commodore sitting at Jenny's desk. 

"Carry on, Lieutenant," Ross stood to leave. "It looks as if you've got quite a haul there, Doctor." 

Voices from the hallway could be heard as Cooper and Jenny were opening the box that Jenny had received. 

"No, you don't understand, 'Phousse," Shane's strident words carried over her friend's softer one. "Marion was the name I wanted to use for my daughter and Anne always knew it!" 

Leaving Jenny's hatch open, the two lady pilots joined Cooper and Jenny. A few minutes later Paul came in carrying a lump of sod, that he claimed was from Wrigley Field. The last to join them was a grim faced Nathan. Everyone was talking at once as Jenny dug into her box and began pulling out books. 

"What the hell is all the noise about?" A disgruntled McQueen stood in the open hatch, his arms crossed, legs splayed and eyes shooting ice bullets. "This is a United Earth Force Navel Carrier, not the local mall. We are at war, People," his eyes raked the Marines who had automatically snapped to attention at the sound of his voice. "If you must carry on like this, at least close the damn hatch!" 

As he turned on his heel to leave, pulling the hatch closed behind him, he saw Jenny step toward him, "Doctor," his voice low and menacing. "I'd advise you to follow the example of your squad-mates. I've had about all of your insubordination that I plan to take." He saw his words hit her and wished he could pull them back. 

"Yes, Sir," Jenny stopped half way to the door. "Colonel, Sir," she may have been at attention, but her left eyebrow was raised and her eyes drilled him, negating her stance. 

At the sound of the hatch closing behind the angry Colonel, everyone breathed a sigh of relief. 

"Well back to the work at hand," Jenny turned back to the box. 

"Lady-Doc, he didn't mean anything by it," Coop placed a hand on her shoulder. He had seen the way McQueen's words had hit her, then bounced off as she had pulled an invisible shield into place. 

"It's okay, Coop," Jenny moved back to the box. "He just caught me by surprise, that's all." She had heard McQueen chew out people on plenty of occasions. This was the first time he had directed his anger at her when they weren't arguing an issue that had her temper in an equal state of flux. 

Patsy had sent Jenny a number of her favorite books. At the bottom she found a treasure trove of old video disks that she could play on her computer. A number of which caught Shane and Vanessa's attention. The women planned a 'girl's night' in the near future. When the others went their separate ways, Nathan stayed behind. 

"Doctor," he wasn't sure where to start. When he had talked to her about Neil the last time he had ended up verbally attacking her. "I got a letter from my parents and it sounds as if they haven't been notified of Neil's death. Something's wrong." 

"What's the date on the letter?" 

"I thought of that," West studied the letter in his hands. "This letter was dated ten days ago. It must have arrived at the shuttle just as it was taking off from Earth. I was told by the Commodore that death notices go out in the daily out-going radio traffic, every evening. They should have been notified a week before this letter was written." 

"Have you talked to Colonel McQueen about it?" Jenny wasn't sure what she could do for Nathan, but was willing to try. 

"I tried to," Nathan shrugged. "He isn't..well, like Hawkes said earlier, he isn't acting himself today." 

"What did he say to you?" Jenny didn't like what Nathan wasn't telling her about the Colonel. 

"That the Corps would take care of it," Nathan sat heavily on the desk chair. "Then, something about Marine's parents losing their children for 300 years." 

"Ouch!" Jenny frowned at the coldness of the words. "Keep in mind that he thinks of family differently then we do." 

"Doctor," Nathan smiled at the woman. "You don't have to make excuses for McQueen. We both know that something is bothering him right now. His response to me was out of character. The Colonel may not have a family, but he worries about the families of his soldiers. I've seen him write letters often enough to know that he doesn't leave a thing like that to the bureaucrats." 

"Since McQueen isn't a resource at this time," Jenny skirted the issue of 'making excuses for McQueen'. "Why don't you talk to the Commodore. Be sure the time line you've projected is correct. There's a possibility that your letter was mailed before your parents heard about Neil's death. It's been less than a month."   
...................................... 

Saratoga April 4, 2064 - 1800 hours 

The 58th had been sent on a mission. Jenny was being careful to stay in her quarters, when not in Sickbay. McQueen was making himself scarce, since the arrival a few hours earlier of the crew from the Armed Serves' Network to film the documentary on In-Vitros In The Military. 

"Jenny," Joan Brill called out as she entered Sickbay. "The 58th is coming in and they're bring in causalities." 

"Details?" The Doctor felt her heart begin to race. 

"Nothing so far," Joan grabbed the emergency kit. "I'll be triage, you stay where you are. They say the camera crew is already setting up at the docking bay. They want to catch Hawkes as he comes in from a mission." 

Thirty minutes later Sickbay was filled with Marines fresh from extraction. Jenny leaned over the stretcher that carried Vanessa Damphousse. As she did an initial assessment, she was surrounded by the 58th. 

"Back-up guys, just back up," Jenny turned toward the worried men and women. Looking between Coop and Wang, she saw a stern-faced McQueen come flying through the Sickbay doors. "You have to give us some room to work." 

"Is she going to be all right, Lady-Doc?" Paul was still gripping 'Phousse's hand. 

"I can't tell, yet," Jenny moved Cooper out of the way to get back to Vanessa's side. "One of you, tell me what happened." 

"There was an explosion," Paul had been her partner, so he told the Doctor what he knew. "The compression from the blast sent Vanessa flying. She hit her head and..well.. her night vision goggles were broken when she landed. She couldn't see anything, so I bandaged her eyes and got her out of there." 

"You did the right thing, Paul," Jenny gripped his shoulder to give reassurance. Paul was still too fragile from his encounter on Kazbek for the Doctor's liking. "Now everybody, go shower and eat, so I can take care of Vanessa." 

"Come on Lady-Doc, we'll stay out of your way," Cooper was worried about 'Phousse, and part of him was scared about going back out there to face the cameras he knew were waiting for him. The idea of being the center of attention was exciting, but it was scary, too. Ross had made Sickbay off limits to the news crew, so for the moment he was safe. 

"People," McQueen stepped into the middle of his Marines. "You heard Dr. Kirkwood. Everybody out of here. Give her some time to get her job done." 

"Give me two hours," Jen called after the 58th, as they headed out and Vanessa was taken into an exam bay. "That means you too, Ty," she smiled at the Colonel. 

"May I talk to her for a minute?" McQueen's eyes followed where the young Marine was being taken. 

"Sure," Jen followed him into the bay and watched while he talked softly to the hurt woman. 

"Ty?" Jenny stopped McQueen as he was about to leave the exam area. "Why don't you wait in my office. The Corpsman just brought me some dinner, help yourself." 

"I can't eat your dinner," McQueen was hungry and had been avoiding the Mess. "You've never gained back any of the weight you lost on Kordis." 

"Go ahead and eat it. By the time I'm finished in here, it'll be ice cold. I'll have Joan get me something later. Besides, it's the scrubs that make me look thin," Jen lied. 

"Good try, Jen," McQueen stepped close to the doctor. "But you forget I've seen you in....... scrubs before." 

"Please, Ty just do as I'm asking you," Jen turned away from him, her face flaming as his soft chuckle followed him out of the exam room. The Doctor ground her teeth, they both knew he had seen her in shorts and even a wetsuit when they snorkeled off the Windswept.   
................................... 

Saratoga Sickbay 2100 hours April 4, 2064 

The 58th arrived back in sickbay exactly two hours after leaving. They were all worried about 'Phousse and felt that being there would give her support. Paul had been the last to leave when Jenny declared visiting hours over. He was worried about Vanessa. He knew about the letter she had received and how much it had hurt her. 

"Paul," Jenny Kirkwood called out as she watched his worried face. "She's going to be all right. It'll take a few days, but Dr. Gregory says her eyes will be as good as new." 

"It's not her eyes I'm worried about," Paul shrugged. 

"So I gather," Jen watched the young man closely. "Is this something I should know about?" 

"You talk to her Lady-Doc," he pointed toward the curtained area where 'Phousse was resting. "If anyone can help her, you can," for just a moment, ghosts shadowed his eyes, then were gone. 

"How about you, Paul," Jen had seen the pain flash across his face. "How're you doing?" 

"Oh, I'm fine, Ma'am," he pasted a smile on his face. "Don't worry about me, you were right, I'm putting it all behind me." He was lying and hoped he could hide it for a few more minutes. For some reason, what happened to 'Phousse was intensifying all his fear and shame from Kazbek. 

"Dr. Kirkwood," 'Phousse called from behind curtains. 

"I'm here," Jenny held Vanessa's hand as she looked over her shoulder and watched Paul make a quick exit. The Doctor made a mental note to talk to McQueen about the young man. He was still having problems coping and needed help that she was unable to give him. 

"Was that Paul I just heard?" 'Phousse gripped Jenny's hand tightly. 

"He was here," Jenny pulled up a chair to sit beside the Marine. "They were all here." 

"I know," Vanessa tried to smile. "Even the Colonel. He talked to me when I was first brought in." 

"Of course he did," Jen smiled at the memory of the older man holding Vanessa's hand and talking softly to the injured girl. "He cares about all of you."   
  
"Was I dreaming, or did you make him laugh?" The sleepy Marine wondered. 

"Pardon?" Her question caught Jenny by surprise. 

"He doesn't laugh enough, but Lady-Doc, he's a good man," 'Phousse defended her commander. "He didn't mean what he said the other day in your quarters." 

"Vanessa...." Jen tried to cut in. 

"Let me finish, Jenny!" 'Phousse kept on talking. She had enough pain medication on board and was hurting too much from the letter she had received to keep quiet. "The Colonel hasn't been like that since the early days of the war. He was hurting then and he's hurting now. I think it's because of the documentary that's being filmed. He doesn't want to talk about his past. He shouldn't be made to." 

"I agree with you, Vanessa," Jen gripped her hand again. "You're a very sensitive woman." 

"Please, not my sensitivities again," 'Phousse grimaced, remembering the problems she had when she was seeing odd lights around people before they died. "This is different, Jenny. Colonel McQueen is a kind, honorable man, unlike some men I can name." 

"Has someone been giving you a hard time," Jenny jumped at the chance to move off the the topic of McQueen. 

"My fiance," 'Phousse' lip began to quiver as she tried not to cry. "Sam, found someone else while I was out here fighting this damn war." 

"And he told you in a letter?" Jenny held her hand tighter. 

"Yes, ma'am, but I'd rather know the truth, than have him string me along and tell me nothing but lies," Phousse was trying to be brave, but she was hurting. "It's just that I thought I knew him so well. I thought he really loved me." 

"I'm so sorry," Jenny used her free hand to smooth back Vanessa's hair. 

"There were times when we would be in the thick," 'Phousse needed to talk about the man who had hurt her. "I would see his face or hear his voice. It would be just a momentary flash, but it would keep me going. It was like he was there beside me. Now in my heart, all I have is this empty place." 

"I know," Jenny's voice shook, remembering a voice and face that wouldn't get out of her head when she was trapped on Kordis. "But you should try and rest." 

"You don't fool me," the Lieutenant muttered sleepily. "You'll do anything to avoid talking about Him." 'Phousse smiled as she remembered all the stories that were circulating the ship. The stories that the Doctor had told on Kordis about a Marine pilot who had died. None of the stories ever told of affection between Jenny and the Major, but Vanessa would have bet her last dollar on it. 

Looking up at a noise behind her, Jenny found McQueen watching them. "I thought you might like this," he handed her a cup of hot coffee as he sipped from a mug of his own. 

"How long were you standing there?" Jenny whispered as she took the cup. Vanessa's hold on her hand had loosened and the young Marine was taking deep regular breaths. 

"Longer than I should have," McQueen spoke quietly. "I was waiting to find how she's doing. And I want to make sure you eat something. Joan has gone to get you some more dinner. This time you're to eat it, and that's an order." 

"Yes, Sir," Jen grinned at him. "There's really nothing to add to what I told you earlier. Physically she's going to be fine," she watched the young woman sleep. "Dr. Voss and Dr. Gregory, the opthomologist, got all the glass out of her corneas. The other, will heal with time." 

"Sometimes I think mail from home does more damage than good," McQueen growled. 

"Believing a lie wouldn't have helped her," Jenny watched 'Phousse sleep. "She said as much herself." 

"Smart girl," McQueen whispered.   
  
"She has a great deal of respect for you, Ty," Jen wondered if he realized he had become a father figure to the young Marine. 

"As I said, she's a smart girl," McQueen grinned. "She's right about another thing as well. I'm sorry for what I said the other day." 

"Thank you, but I understood," Jenny looked at the sleeping woman, relieved to see that the Colonel looked more relaxed than he had in a few days. "The idea of giving an interview goes against everything you believe in." 

"What do you mean?" McQueen hedged. This woman knew him too well. 

*"'He accomplishes his tasks, but he doesn't dwell on them.'* The theme runs throughout the Tao," Jenny stood, looking up at the man who meant so much to her. "Over and over again, Lao-Tzu writes of doing, or in some cases not doing, but letting actions speak for themselves." 

"A poet and a philosopher, the Doctor has many talents," McQueen whispered as he watched Jenny's eyes turn deep black. "Is she also a mind reader?" 

"If she were, she'd say this man is worried, but should put aside his worries and just do it." Jen was trying to pull back from all she was feeling. She hoped that her emotions weren't too evident. 

For one second McQueen saw something in Jenny's face that caught him up short. Could she really read his mind? Then relief followed by anger washed over him, "what, no pithy phrases on facing demons?" As his face turned to stone, he thought, *"the interview, she'd been talking about the interview!*" If she could have read his mind, it would have frightened that trusting look off her face. 

"Ty?" Jenny stepped back at his harsh reply and watched as he marched out of Sickbay like a man facing his doom. 

Damphousse moaned, she was hearing voices, she tried hard to remember who was talking and what was being said. She felt it was important, but it kept slipping away from her as she fell into a deep sleep.   
.................................. 

Jenny's Quarters 2300 hours 

Jenny had put away her notes and crawled into bed when she was disturbed by pounding on her hatch. 

"Just a sec," she called out as she pulled on sweat pants and grabbed an old wool shirt to cover her tank top. 

"Lady-Doc, it's me, Hawkes," Cooper had stopped pounding, but was clenching his fists in temper as he waited for the hatch to open. 

"What's wrong?" Jenny asked as she yanked open the hatch. The look on the young in-vitros face told her he was upset. 

"Why didn't you tell me?" He accused as he stepped into her quarters. "Why didn't you tell me how bad it was for in-vitros in the early days?" 

"What are you talking about?" Jenny guided the man to a chair, but he refused to sit. 

"McQueen gave his interview!" Anger boiled in Hawkes veins again as he thought of all that his commander had gone through. "Why didn't you tell me about Port Riskin?" 

"I did," Jenny put her hand on his arm to get his attention. 

"Yeah, right!" Hawkes, pushed her hand away. "You told me McQueen had been a munitions handler, but you didn't really tell me." 

"Hawkes!" Jen grabbed him by the arms and tried to shake him. "Listen to me Hawkes," her voice carried the authority of command. "It wasn't up to me to tell anyone! If Ty wanted that story told, he was the only one who had the right to tell it. As it is, I told you more than I should have!" 

"But.." Hawkes tried to interrupt. 

"No, buts," Jen gave him a shake again. "I won't do anything that would cause him pain, not even for you." 

"You knew, though?" Hawkes was looking at the doctor very carefully. He felt she had the answers to a lot of things, but he didn't know the questions to ask. 

"All I can tell you, is that I've been his doctor in the past," Jen sniffed as she felt tears forming. "You'll have to decide for yourself what that means." 

"Lady-Doc, I...." Hawkes didn't know what to say, he had made her cry and wasn't sure how he had done it. 

"Is he all right?" Jen was reluctant to call McQueen by name and not sure why. 

"He disappeared after the interview," Hawkes patted Jenny's shoulder awkwardly. "Don't cry Lady-Doc, I didn't mean to yell at you." 

"I'm okay, Coop," Jen wiped the tears from her cheeks and smiled. "How did it go for you?" 

"It wasn't what I expected. All I wanted was to be somebody. I'd hoped that interview would help, so I went along with them. Then after I heard what the Colonel had to say," Coop shook his head. "I just couldn't do it anymore." 

"You are somebody," Jenny patted his hand. "You're Cooper Hawkes and the life you lead everyday shows what a nice young man you are." 

"That's about what the Colonel said," Hawkes sighed, finding it hard to comprehend all that had happened to McQueen. "It's hard to believe that a man like the Colonel came out of Port Riskin." 

"It takes a very hot fire to temper strong steel and McQueen is made of the strongest I've ever seen." Jen smiled through her worry, "are you all right, now?" 

"I will be," Coop smiled. "Good-night, Lady-Doc, and thanks," Coop left Jenny standing in the middle of her cabin. He had been given a lot to think about tonight. For the first time since he had read the words, he understood the beginning of Jenny's book. 'I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul." First think in the morning he was going to the ship's library and pull up a copy of the whole poem.   
....................... 

Jenny gave Coop five minutes, then left her cabin. Sneaking through the night time ship, she headed for the alcove, where she was sure she would find McQueen. 

"Ty?" She stood beside the man, who sat watching the stars. She knew he had been aware of her. "I'll go, if you want to be alone." 

"No," McQueen looked up and slid over to make room for her on the ledge. "I told them about Port Riskin. About the 'dreams'. I don't think they understood." 

"I doubt they would," Jen reached over and held his hand. Her fingers intertwined with his. "They have no frame of reference." 

"But you do, don't you?" McQueen turned and looked her in the eyes. His hand gripping hers as tightly as she was gripping his. "You've always known. Why is that? You're not an in-vitro." 

"I don't know," Jen leaned back against the bulkhead. Her shoulder brushing against his arm. "I just do." 

They sat like that for a long time. McQueen being soothed by Jen's presence. He held onto her hand to keep from being swallowed by his inner turmoil. She sat quietly, not asking questions or needing him to speak. 

"How much did I say during those nights in detox?" McQueen finally broke the silence. "When I was so out of it." 

"Does it matter?" Jenny shrugged, "though someday, I hope you'll take a closer look at those times of your life. If not with me, then with someone else." 

"You've got to be kidding!" There were things he kept hidden very deeply. 

"No," Jen sighed. "You need to bring all that into the light of day. Look at what's important, and discard the rest. All of what's there goes toward making the man you are today. Look at him, accept him, and move on with your life. It's a waste of energy to have to keep burying things when they come back to haunt you." 

"If it was so important, why didn't you and Werner push me to do it four years ago," McQueen challenged. 

"You weren't in any shape to do it at the time," Jenny squeezed his hand tighter. "You were dangling over a deep abyss, back then. You needed everything in you to crawl back from the edge. For some reason you choose to confide in me, not Werner. Knowing that, we structured the psychiatric part of your treatment so that you only had enough sessions with Dr. Werner to make sure that you and I were staying on track." 

How many of his other demons did she knew about? It bothered him that she would not only know about them, but understand them so well. He realized she had some demons of her own that recognized his. *"The Doctor needed to take her own advice,"* he thought. Then wondered if she realized her's existed at all? 

After Jen left, McQueen sat watching the stars. His hand was still warm from where she had held onto him tonight. Did she realized how close to another abyss he had been tonight? If his temper had slipped it's leash, there was no telling what would have happened. For a second time she had held onto him and kept him from falling. She was right about one thing, it did save energy when someone helped you fight the battle.   
........................................ 

Jenny's Quarters April 12, 2064 - 2200 hours 

Since the guys were busy playing poker in the bar, Vansen, 'Phousse and Jenny decided to have a party. Vansen had smuggled two bottles of wine from the Tun. Jenny had a sappy chick-flick for them to watch. And Damphousse was finally able to take off her dark glasses; as long as the lights where kept low. All three women had red eyes from crying over the movie, were slightly drunk and enjoying every minute of it. 

"That movie was so good," 'Phousse wiped a tear from her face. "There is something so romantic about a train station. Up until the last second, when he pulled her on the train with him, I was sure he was going to leave her behind." 

"No, he wouldn't have left her, he loved her," both Marines heard the hollow sound in Jenny's voice as she stared blankly into the past. "A..aa..Vanessa, are you all right?" Jenny fumbled to cover her momentary lapse. "This movie wasn't too much for you, too soon?" 

"No," Vanessa reached for a tissue. "I'm doing okay. The hard part is not having someone to love, I feel empty inside." 

"I know what you mean," Shane poured more wine for them all. "When I saw John again after so long, he filled my heart with the old warmth. Then when he died, it was all gone again and I had to start...." Shane froze and slowly looked over at Jenny. "Oh Jen, I'm so sorry I didn't mean to bring this up." 

"I don't know what you're talking about," the doctor tried to deny what she was feeling as tears rolled down her face. 

"It's all right," 'Phousse put her arm around the smaller woman. "We know. You don't have to pretend with us." 

"What?" Jenny pulled back in horror as both Marines shook their heads. "But..but" 

"Your Major," Shane patted the older woman as she picked up a bottle of bright red nail polish. "He died, and you still love him." Both younger women had speculated on the source of Jen's bracelet, but were afraid to ask. 

"No, you guys have it all wrong," Jenny shook her head. 

"It's okay," 'Phousse handed her more tissue. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. Just remember, we're always here if you need us." Vanessa had a nagging feeling she should remember something, but didn't know what it was. 

"No..."Jenny's protests were interrupted by a knock. 

"Quickly someone hide the bottles!" They all gasped. Though alcohol outside of the Tun was forbidden, everyone knew that the rule was broken. It was ignored as long as no one was blatant about it. Two drunk Marines and a wobbling Navy doctor were pushing it a bit. 

"Yes," Vansen plastered a smile on her face as she pulled open the hatch. "Colonel McQueen? Sir!" 

"Vansen, Damphousse?" McQueen looked around the cabin, his Marines were drunk and playing with little bottles of red paint. There were clothes scatter around and Jen had her back to the door. "What's going on here?" 

"I..a," Jenny stuttered as she turned around quickly, almost losing her balance. 

"Lieutenant Commander," McQueen motioned for her. 

"I can explain," Jenny walked a not so straight line to the door. Moving out into the passageway with McQueen she closed the hatch behind her. "Was there something you needed Colonel?" She looked him in the eyes deciding the best defense was a strong offense. 

"You've been drinking, all of you," he accused. 

"Maybe just a little, but you can't have a good movie without some wine," Jen reasoned. "Besides we're celebrating Shane's up-coming promotion." 

"You made them cry!" McQueen was shocked. "You've turned my Marines into a bunch of women." 

"In case you haven't noticed, Colonel" Jenny underlined her words by leaning close to him and standing on her toes, her up-turned face inches from his. "They are women. Treating them like short men isn't good for their mental status. They're women. Let them feel like women every once in a while." Then she ruined the effect of her carefully worded speech by giggling. 

"Jen, you're drunk," his mouth twitched as he tried to keep from laughing. 

"At least I'm not passed out, like a certain Lieutenant Colonel, who shall remain nameless," she leaned even closer whispering conspiratorially. 

"Is he anyone I would know?" McQueen tried to look severe, but it was tough when all he wanted to do was laugh. 

"Oh, loosen up, McQueen," she shook her head at him, making herself dizzy. "Ohh," she lost her balance, having forgotten she was on her toes, and bumped against the bulkhead as she landed on her feet. 

"Careful there, Jen," he reached for her arms to keep her from falling. 

"You caught me?" She looked up in surprise. 

"I'd never let you fall, Jen," he kept a hold on her to make sure she was steady. 

"You're an officer and a gentleman," she whispered, liking the feel of being able to lean on him even if only for just a moment. "Don't worry about Shane and Vanessa, they'll be their old selves tomorrow. They would never cry for you." 

"No," he whispered as he wiped a stray tear from her cheek. "Only you do that." 

"Not anymore, I made a deal, I won't break it, Ty, I promise." Jen murmured, unable to take her eyes off of his. "Ohh...." common sense reasserted itself as Jenny heard what she'd just said. *"This wasn't the way to keep her bargain!"* A voice shouted in her head, as she straightened, putting distance between the two of them. 

"What are you talking about?" McQueen had felt her stiffen under his hands and let her go. 

"Just rambling..."Jen improvised. "You were right about too much wine. What was it you needed?" 

"It can wait until morning," * "or the day after"* McQueen thought. *"Depending on how hung over she is."* "It was about Nathan, but it can wait." 

"Oh, okay," Jen smiled as she opened the hatch. "Good-night." 

"How much trouble are we in?" 'Phousse asked as Jenny came back into the room. 

"He was more upset that I had 'turned his Marines into women'," Jen lowered her voice, her hands low on her hips and did a creditable imitation of McQueen, that had both younger women rolling on the floor laughing. 

"Very good," 'Phousse giggled. "Someday have Paul do McQueen as a plumber, it's a stitch." 

"But if you do," Shane grinned. "Be sure McQueen doesn't catch him at it, this time." 

"No!" Jenny joined them on the floor, tears of laughter rolling down her face. "Somehow I don't think the Colonel thought it was funny at the time." 

"It feels so good to laugh," Shane lay on the floor feeling like her old self for the first time in a long time. "Ever since I got that vid from Anne, things have been weird." 

"How so?" Jenny was helping to paint Vanessa's toenails a bright red. 

"She's named her baby after mom," Shane sighed. "She knew I always wanted to name my daughter Marion." 

"But you don't have a daughter," Jen split her attention between red toenail polish and Shane. "When you do, is there any reason why there can't be two Marions in the family?" 

"Damn-it," Shane sat up. "Why do you have to always make so much sense, Jenny." 

"Shane," 'Phousse put her arm around her friend. "From what you tell me, your mother loved you girls more than anything else in the world. I can't imagine she would want you fighting over a thing like a name." 

"I always planned to honor her memory that way," Shane sighed. 

"As our lives change, we need to change too," Jenny whispered. Her mind was still out in the hall with McQueen. "God, he's right! I did turn us all into a bunch of women," Jenny moaned as she wiped away tears that filled her eyes and rolled down her face. 

"We won't tell, if you tell us what McQueen was like before the war," 'Phousse grinned. 

"Pardon?" 

"We know you were an Angry Angel," 'Phousse held up the picture Jen had forgotten to hide before the younger women arrived. "So what was McQueen like back then?" 

"Not all that different from now," Jenny was unable to meet the other women's eyes, so she missed the look that passed between the two of them. "He was a Marine then, as he is now."   
.............................. 

Saratoga, April 16, 2064 

"Lady-Doc, open up," someone knocking on her hatch pulled Jenny back from notes on early work in DNA restructuring in the in-vitro program. 

"Paul? Vanessa?" Jenny opened her door to find Wang and Damphousse grinning at her. "What can I do for you?" 

"Ma'am we're here to save you," he laughed. 

"Pardon me?" Jenny's mind was still on her research. 

"We thought maybe Chig spies were holding you captive in here," Vanessa's eyes sparkled as she teased. "That's why we haven't seen you for four days." 

"Come to the Tun with us?" Paul invited, "we're celebrating Shane's promotion. We'd like you to come out of hiding." 

"I'm not hiding," Jen protested. "How do you know that I'm not just 'otherwise occupied'?" Jenny rolled her eyes, seductively. 

"On this ship, we would have heard about it," Wang teased. 

"Front and center, Lieutenant Commander!" Vanessa crossed her arms over her chest, her legs splayed in an unconscious imitation of McQueen, causing Jenny to giggle. 

"Okay, okay, you win," Jen looked down at the jeans and sweater she was wearing. 

"You look fine, but shoes would be good," Vanessa prodded as she looked at Jenny's bare feet. 

"I don't know about that," Paul smirked. "I kind of think the red toe-nail polish would be a hit in the Tun. How come you and Shane don't wear things like that." 

"Be real Paul," Vanessa bit her lip to keep from laughing. "Toe nail polish and combat boots. Can you imagine what the Colonel would say?" Both she and Shane had been careful to keep their feet covered when around the guys, not wanting to be teased. 

"What would the Colonel say, about what?" McQueen moved to Jenny's door on his way to the Tun. Jen had just turned off her computer and was slipping into very unmilitary-like shoes, made of a soft brown leather. 

"Ahhh, nothing Sir," 'Phousse back-peddled. 

"I thought maybe you were talking about 'plumbers' again," McQueen met Paul's direct glance. The Colonel's mouth twitched as Paul shifted in discomfort. The young Marine doubted he would ever live down his imitation of McQueen the night before Kazbek. 

"What's this about plumbers?" Jenny joined in the teasing. 

"Have Paul tell you sometime," McQueen was sure she had already been let in on the joke, but he planned to give Paul a hard time about it for as long as he could, so he could hardly appear to approve. 

Things had gone back to normal after the mail from home. Vanessa was adjusting to life without Sam and appeared to be happy. Jenny didn't know what Shane had written to her sister about using their mom's name for her baby, but the new Captain was content. Jenny had cried when Nathan showed her the beautiful letter he had written his parents about Neil's death. The West family was lucky to be so close, even in times of tragedy. McQueen and Hawkes had sat grim faced through the viewing of the documentary on In-Vitros In The Military. As Jenny had thought, McQueen's interview hadn't been used. She wasn't sure how he felt about it, and he wasn't talking about it.   
.................................. 

Saratoga Sickbay, April 20, 2064 

Two days after Shane's party, the 58th was sent on a recon mission to a small planet. Wounded were pouring in from all over the sector, so Jenny was almost too busy to worry. 

"Jenny," Win Trosper moved behind her in the OR. "Commander Brill wanted me to tell you that the 58th is on their way in. Wheels down in about 55 mikes." 

"Any news?" The doctor concentrated on suturing the lacerated arm of the young Marine on her table. 

"They say one shrapnel wound, Ma'am," he grinned as he watched her shoulders relax at the news. "Nothing serious." 

"Did they say who?" Jen was relieved. They had been gone for almost two days and this time McQueen had gone with them. 

"No, Ma'am. You want me to close for you?" Trosper offered as he pointed toward the wound the Doctor was working on. 

"I'm almost done here," she smiled at the young Sargent. "Thanks for the offer. Tell Joan I said thank you, for the heads-up." 

An hour later Jenny treated Shane's right leg for a gash caused by flying debris. "Sorry Shane, but I'm keeping you for the night," Jenny smiled at the Marine. "Since they saw fit to drag you around in a tank, for a day and a half, with that leg injury, I want you on intravenous antibiotics just to be on the safe side."   
......................................... 

Saratoga April 21, 2064 -0100 

Paul Wang was beginning to know the night sounds of the Saratoga almost as well as he did the day sounds. Ever since Kazbek, he had been plagued with insomnia. Tonight, he found himself in the darkened mess hall. 

Getting coffee from the small lighted area at one end of the mess, he moved to below the windows, where he could watch the stars. He didn't hear the quiet footsteps of his commanding officer, until McQueen was pulling out a chair at his table. 

"It helps to look out there doesn't it?" McQueen gestured with his coffee mug. "It makes everything clear and clean." 

"Sir," Paul didn't know where to start. "Sir, I want a transfer, to someplace where I won't put anyone in danger, ever again." 

"You'd have to be dead for that," McQueen sipped his coffee. "In life there are no guarantees, only choices." 

"Yeah," Paul sneered. He couldn't get it out of his mind that he had been so desperate to get back the recording of his confession on Kazbek that he had been willing to strike a deal with an AI. "And I seem to make the wrong ones. I could've gotten you all killed!" 

"This mission isn't the problem," McQueen looked into his cup, glad for the cover of the dark corner of the mess hall. "You're still having problems dealing with what happened to you on Kazbek. Earlier when I told you there were people in your life who could help you get back what you had lost, I was talking about me." 

"You, Sir?" Paul looked up in surprise. 

"During the AI War I was a prisoner," McQueen heard Paul gasp as he talked. "It was in November of 2056. That was the longest two weeks of my life. 

"Two weeks, my God," Paul was amazed. "I wasn't able to hold out for ten hours!" 

"I didn't hold out," McQueen murmured. He could see the deep cavern where he had been kept as if it was yesterday. "My plane was shot down while doing routine reconnaissance over Alaska. I was able to manually eject, but couldn't clear the damaged canopy and hit my head hard enough to knock me out. My 'chute must have opened on decent, because I have no memory of opening it.   
........................................ 

November 2056, Alaska 

Captain Tyrus Cassius McQueen's first thought was that he was cold, very cold. Was he back in the mines on Omicron Draconis? Taking a deep breath he fought the blackness that threatened to overpower him again. Grabbing onto anything, even the throbbing pain in his head, he forced himself to full consciousness. He pulled himself to a sitting position, only to be stabbed with dizziness and nausea that drove him to lay back down. 

McQueen dug his nails into the packed dirt under him, as he rested until his stomach calmed and the dizziness passed. He tried to sit again, this time more gingerly. He gave a grunt of satisfaction when he was able to stay upright. 

He was in a small cave that had bars on the front of it. He could hear moaning through the walls, on either side of him, but it was too dark to see more than a foot in front of his face. 

"Hey, who's out there?" McQueen called out. 

"Shut-up, Tank!" A very large AI stepped in front of his cell and hit the bars with a weapon. "There is no talking here, unless we ask the questions." 

McQueen never knew how many people were kept in the underground cavern with him. He never saw anyone but AI's. He would hear screams at all hours of the day and night. If it was other prisoners, or AI's trying to wear him down, he never knew. 

For some reason they hadn't take his watch. McQueen knew he was in the cell for 6 days 7 hours and 23 minutes before they came for him. At first listening to the screams had gotten on his nerves, then he devised a plan. First he repeated to himself how to take apart and reassemble every firearm he knew. He worked his way through the Marine Corps Code of Conduct and was half way through a mental blue-print of the Yorktown when they came for him.   
................................... 

Saratoga April 21, 2064, 0230 

"By the time they came for me, I was exhausted to the point of disorientation," McQueen watched Paul shiver. "They worked on me for three days, before I broke. There were times when I didn't know if I was awake or dreaming." 

"How did you hold out so long?" Paul had tears in his eyes. 

"I don't know," McQueen looked deep into his cold coffee. "I would hear my screams and think they belonged to someone else. Sometimes they seemed to echo from far away." 

"If I could have lasted longer, things would all be different," Paul sighed. 

"This isn't a contest, Paul," McQueen whispered. "When you're an in-vitro, you're taught that your only reason for being created is to fight and then to die. I think that until that time I had always believed that I was a walking dead man. It's pretty hard to hurt a man who's already dead." 

"Didn't you feel any of it?" Paul gasped. 

"Oh yeah," McQueen gripped his mug until his knuckles turned white. "I felt it, but you said something last night. You asked 'why couldn't your body break down before your soul?'" McQueen gave a half smile, "I was never taught that I had a soul, so there was none to break. What was done. The pain.....was the only thing that told me I was still alive. Is that making any sense?" 

"Yes. I knew as long as I felt what Elroy was doing to me I was still human," Paul met McQueen's eyes, knowing the other man understood him completely. 

"In the end I broke and told them what they wanted to know. Don't kid yourself, Paul, you're not alone in this. No one, in-vitro or natural-born can stand-up to what they do to you," McQueen stood to look at the stars. "I know this much, I couldn't go through it again." 

"You went in there after us, to that hell-hole on Kazbek, knowing that there were AI's in there?" Paul challenged. 

"Yes, and I'd do it again," he knew that Paul needed to hear the truth. "But, they would never have taken me alive, nor would I have let them keep any of you alive." 

The enormity of what the Colonel was saying hit Paul, and he was flooded with relief. For the first time in a long time, he didn't feel helpless. Now he knew the decision was an easy one, life or death, no in-between, but the choice would be his. Paul hoped that he would always be able to choose to live, but if he couldn't? So be it. It would be his choice, not one forced on him by another. In that moment his soul began to heal.   
.......................................... 

Saratoga, May 4, 2064, 2000 hours 

Jenny stretched her arms over he head. Her shift in Sickbay was over. Things had been busy for the last month. The Saratoga was on a constant state of alert. Squadrons were going out at all times of the day and night. The Medical Corps was working hard to stay ahead of the wounded being brought in. Tonight she had promised to meet the Wildcards in the Tun for a quick drink. It had been a while since they had been together, and though she was tired she was looking forward to an evening out. 

The bar was crowded and it's usual friendly atmosphere was muted. Soldiers looked tired, as if they had come in for a quick drink before hitting the rack. Jenny didn't see the 58th at their usual table. Shrugging her shoulders she worked her way to the bar to put in her order. Before she had time to do that, the ominous sounds of an argument getting loud and rough, broke out behind her. 

"Take it out of here," Jenny turned as two large Marines converged on each other. "I said, take it out......" she reached for the meaty arm of the man closest to her. The Marine shook off her hand as he drew back his arm, his elbow came back, hard and fast, hitting her between the eyes, as he put his whole body into punching his friend. 

Jenny heard the pop and snap of cartilage and bone breaking, as her head snapped back. She bounced against the bar and fell to the floor as the air whooshed out of her. The room seemed to be moving in slow motion. Large combat boots scuffled in front of her, keeping her trapped beneath the overhang of the bar. 

Loud voices coming from far off brought the room back to a semblance of order. Jenny pulled back tighter against the bar in hope no one would see her, sitting with her hands covering her face. 

"Dr. Kirkwood," Shane's worried voice sounded very close. "Jenny, let me get a look at you." The Marine carefully held Jenny's arms and pulled the injuried woman's hands away from her face. 

"Shane, Vanessa?" Jenny shook her head, but she felt like she was moving at half speed. She could see the worried look on both Marines' faces. 

"Break it up in here?" McQueen had just come through the swinging doors of the Tun. 

"Attention on deck," someone yelled at the Colonel's presence. 

"No," Jenny gasped as she saw feet quickly scamper to attention, very close to her. Her grip tightened on the two Marines she was hiding behind. 

"Vansen, Damphousse?" McQueen barked, wondering why they were huddling under the bar. 

"Sir," 'Phousse let go of Jenny's hand as the doctor hid her face again. "You better come over here." 

McQueen took one look at the woman sitting with her back tight against the bar, her legs drawn up and her hands covering her face. His stomach clenched at the blood running down her neck and soaking into her sweater. For one instant, he was back in a hospital room in Houston. The sound of security guards arriving brought him back to the present. 

"What the hell happened?" McQueen knelt in front of Jenny. 

"I saw it from the door," Shane spoke quickly as Jenny pulled closer to her. "It was an accident, she was trying to stop a fight, when she got hit." 

"Jen," McQueen held her gently by the wrists. He could feel her warm breath on his fingers. "Let me see how badly you're hurt." 

"No, Ty," Jenny whispered. "Go away." 

"Take those men to the brig," he called over his shoulder to the security guards. "I want a full report by 0800 tomorrow." He looked at Shane and Damphousse and indicated for them to leave him with Jenny. 

"Jen," he rubbed the backs of her hands with his thumbs. "I need to see how bad it is? You're bleeding all over the place." 

"Please, Ty, just go away," Jenny rocked as tears filled her eyes. She was mortified that she had been hurt. Then to have McQueen see her like this only added insult to injury. "It's broken, my nose is broken, that's where all the blood is coming from," she sobbed into her hands. 

"Vansen," the ice in McQueen's voice hid his frustration and worry. "You and Damphousse take her to Sickbay. She won't let me anywhere near her." He stood and motioned the two Marines over. 

As her two friends helped her to her feet, Jenny peeked over her hands to get a look at the icy expression on Ty's face. The anger that rolled off of him in waves made her cringe. 

"Jen," he ground out as he glared at the three women going through the swinging doors of the Tun. "As soon as I get the paperwork taken care of in the brig, I'm coming to Sickbay. This isn't over yet." 

Chico Voss patched Jenny up, though he argued when she insisted on going back to her own quarters for the night. He ignored her threat to sign herself out AMA (against medical advice), since it wasn't possible in the military, but decided that anyone well enough to argue the way she did was well enough to be released . He sent her on her way with a hypospray of pain medication, 10 brista-freeze packets, and Joan Brill to make sure the Doctor used the pain medication.   
............................................. 

Jenny's Quarters 

"Jenny you get some sleep." Joan had helped the shivering woman change into an over-sized sweat shirt and administered the pain medication. 

"Jen!" Loud knocking was heard at Jenny's hatch. "Let me in." 

"Shhh," Jenny huddled against her pillows, holding brista-freeze packs on her eyes. "If we're really quiet, he won't know we're in here and he'll go away." 

"Doctor," Joan laughed. "Are you sure you didn't hit your head? That man isn't going away." 

"Okay, Okay," Jenny pulled her blanket over her face. "Let him in." 

"Colonel," Joan opened the hatch. Her expression softened when she saw the worry on the man's face. "She's going to be all right. I've given her pain medication, so anything she says, well...don't court martial her," the older nurse smiled as she saw McQueen relax. 

"I'm well acquainted with her sharp tongue, Commander," McQueen stepped into the room. 

"Just remember, you've been warned," Joan grinned as she watched McQueen move toward the lump under the blankets. *"Now how did that line go, yes I remember now,"* laughing as she let herself out of Jenny's quarters and Shakespeare's words played in her head. * "'Thou and I are too wise to woo peaceably.'"* 

"Jen..." he sat beside her on the bunk. 

"I wasn't fighting," Jenny peeked out from under the blanket, but kept the packs on her eyes. "Really I wasn't. I wouldn't do anything that might damage my hands. At least not something foolish. One can't do surgery with swollen hands." 

"Nor with swollen eyes,......" He reached for her hands. 

"This wasn't my fault, McQueen!" She tried to pull away from him. 

"I didn't think it was," McQueen was caught in a gentle tug-of-war as he tried to pull her hands away from her face. "Was the fight an accident?" 

"What?" In her surprise, Jenny let him win. "You think this might have been done on purpose?" 

"It wouldn't be the first time." He had talked to the two men in the brig, but he still didn't have an answer. 

"This wasn't like Houston," she sat up needing to convince him and herself. "Really it wasn't." 

"There's too much going on that we don't know about to take any chances," McQueen didn't want to scare her but he needed answers. 

"Okay, give me a minute here," Jenny thought over the evening carefully. "No, Ty, it was an accident. That young Sargent didn't know I was behind him. All he cared about was hitting his friend, besides what would anyone have to gain by trying to give me two black eyes?" 

"I hate to be the one to tell you this, Jen, but he didn't try, he succeeded." McQueen dodged her question.   
  
"Ohhh," she moaned as she put the freeze packs back on her eyes. "You didn't answer my question. I'm tired of being kept in the dark around here." Jenny was angry at him for not giving her a straight answer. "How am I supposed to avoid a potentially dangerous situation if I don't know it exists!" 

"Jen," he sighed. "I think this was nothing except an unfortunate accident, but I can't be sure." 

"Just say it straight out," she removed the packs from her eyes needing to see him. "Please, don't play games with me." 

"He hit you here," his finger touched her lightly were Chico Voss had taped her nose. "A little lower, say here." He let his finger drag lightly down to the tip of her nose, "with the correct angle, he could have driven the bone into your brain. It's a lethal blow." 

"Nooo," Jen whispered, unable to take her eyes off McQueen. 

"I don't want to frighten you," McQueen held her gaze. "You need to be careful. Until we get this all sorted out, you need to be very careful." 

"I'm so tired of all this," she held the packs over her eyes again, too exhausted to pretend she was strong. "My head hurts, I can hardly see, and if I start to cry again, I won't be able to breath. Besides, blowing my nose makes my eyes feel like they're going to pop out of my head." 

"Do you want me to get Joan to stay with you tonight?" McQueen watched as she pulled the blanket over her head. 

"No," she murmured. "I can take care of myself." A small traitorous voice shouted inside of her, *"please stay with me."* 

"I know you can, Jen, but you don't always have to," he picked up a throw he recognized from a couch on Catalina and added it to the blanket she already had over her. 

"Thanks, Ty," a voice came from under the lump of blankets. "How did you know I was cold?" 

"Just a wild guess," he whispered, knowing her needs better than he liked to admit. The only time she didn't wear multiple layers of clothes was when she was in the OR. "Get some sleep, Jen." 

"UmmHmm," her fingers of one hand were all that was sticking out from the pile of blankets as he left her quarters. 

Jenny hadn't been the only casualty of the fight in the Tun Tavern on the night of April 21. In her injured condition, the doctor was put on sick leave, therefore wasn't there when Cooper Hawkes was brought into Sickbay a week and a half later. He had received a mild head injury in a skirmish with a group of Chigs. Due to the heavy in-flow of patients that day, none of the regular Saratoga medical staff had taken care of him. He was put on phyllophetamines for pain relief.   
............................... 

Saratoga May 12, 2064, 0315 hours 

Cooper Hawkes tossed and turned on the bunk in the detox room. His dreams were confusing. He didn't know where he was. When he moved, his body was hit with muscle cramps that made him scream in pain. The voices that were yelling in his brain were trying to drown out the calmer voices in the background. Some small part of him knew that if he could hold onto the quiet sound of the man and the woman in the background, he would win the fight with the screaming in his head. 

It was Hawkes third night in detox, the night before had been bad, but this was the worst so far. McQueen had finally ordered everyone out of the room. Jen had refused to leave on medical grounds and he couldn't argue with her on that, though he had wanted to. 

"They're coming over the ridge!" Cooper called out and tried to push to his feet, looking around frantically. "Colonel, give me my weapon back, those damn Chigs will break through anytime now." 

"Easy, Hawks," McQueen kept his voice soft as the young in-vitro fought the same battle for the third time that night. 

"Shane!" Hawkes screamed. "Shane they've got her. I have to get to her," he pushed past Jenny who had been sitting on the edge of his bunk, rubbing his back. 

"Easy Coop," Jen regained her balance and glared at McQueen who had grabbed for Hawkes. "Shane's just fine. Can you hear me Coop?" 

"Cooper," McQueen took his lead from Jen. "Lay back down. Shane's asleep in her quarters." 

"No," the big Marine pushed against McQueen. "Oohhh," he cried out as his muscles spasmed. "Colonel, you gotta help me!" He curled up in pain. 

"I will. I'm right here for you," McQueen gripped the younger man's shoulder and sat beside him. 

"No," Hawkes gasped. "You made me leave them behind! We left them, and you knew what they'd do to them! They'll hurt her like they did Wang." 

"Easy Coop," Jenny knelt beside the bunk. "Shane's fine. Remember, you got her safely back to the Saratoga?" 

"No, we left her," he looked to McQueen for conformation. "She was unconscious. I couldn't lift the beam off of her. We left them all." 

"Ty," Jen leaned against his knee as he sat beside Coop on the bunk. "Go get Shane, he needs to hear her voice and know that she's all right." 

"I'm not leaving you alone in here," his eyes froze remembering another night when he had been the one out of his head from Greens. 

Turning, she focused all her attention on McQueen. His face was gray and his usually clear blue eyes, bloodshot. For the first time she realized how hard this was on him. He was seeing not only Coop, going through detox, but he was picturing himself, as well. Added to that, was the weight of some of the accusations Hawkes was sending his way. 

"All right," she whispered, knowing the Colonel needed time to regroup. She wished things were different and she could hold him as he had her the night before Kazbek. He may be learning how to give comfort, but from his stiff posture, Jenny could tell that he wasn't ready to accept it yet, not from her. 

"Thanks," McQueen whispered as Jenny stood. He watched her body freeze for just a moment, then move out the door. 

Jenny didn't have far to go to get Shane. The Wildcards were sleeping in the hall, out of sight of the soundproofed detox room. 

"Shane," Jenny touched her shoulder. "Wake-up Shane. I need you to come with me for a few minutes." 

"Sure," Shane came awake instantly. "Anything you need." 

"Can we come too?" Nathan, got to his feet to follow. 

"No, Nathan," Jen patted him on the shoulder. "Just Shane for the moment." 

"What can I do?" Shane followed the Doctor around the corner and down the hall. 

"He needs to hear your voice," Jen explained. "He thinks he's still on Kazbek and that the AI's have you guys. But Shane....."she stopped and looked at the Marine. "This is almost as hard on T...the Colonel, as it is on Coop, so don't be surprised if he isn't exactly himself."" 

"Looks to me as if it's pretty hard on you too, Doctor." Shane wiped at a tear that was rolling down Jenny's cheek. 

"No," Jen shook her head. "I'm doing fine." 

"Yeah sure, tough lady," Shane put her arms around the smaller woman and gave her a quick hug. "You'll get Coop through this." 

"Shane, thanks." For one second Jenny let herself lean on Shane, before she took a deep breath and opened the door. "I needed that." 

"Nooo," Hawkes cried out. The only thing that was keeping him from going over the edge was the sound of McQueen's voice coming from far away. 

"Talk to him, Shane," Jenny nudged the Marine forward. "Reassure him that you're all alive and safe." 

"Coop, it's me," Shane knelt beside the bunk and reached for his hand. 

"No, its a trick," Hawkes shook his head, trying to focus his eyes. "The AI's got all of you. I'm sorry I left you." 

"Shhh," she leaned closer to the man on the bunk. "I'm right here. We're all here on the Saratoga." 

"Talk to him, Shane," Jen leaned down to speak softly in her ear. "Just let him hear your voice." 

McQueen and Jenny moved back where they could keep an eye on what was going on, but could still give Cooper and Shane privacy. 

"Jen, go get something to eat and some rest," McQueen took her arm to lead her toward the door. "Shane and I'll handle it for the next few hours." 

"I want to see him through tonight," Jen moved away from him. "Shane's here with me, why don't you go get food and......" 

"No," McQueen stood his ground. "I'm not going to leave you with him, even if Shane is here. Besides, I can rest when I'm dead." 

"You know you said that to me once, when I was trapped on Kordis," she shook her head when she realized what she had said. "Actually Colonel," Jenny thought fast to cover her mistake. "I was going to suggest you bathe." 

"Hump," he nodded, realizing she'd touched on a subject she wanted to stay away from. "If you think this is bad, you should see me when I come in from a mission." 

"I have, and smelled you too," Jen crossed her arms to put more distance between them. 

"What no Hammerhead fuel?" McQueen gave her a half smile. He didn't know why he had pushed her, but he saw his remark hit it's target. 

"Look McQueen," Jen turned away from him. "Neither you nor I want to leave, so lets stop the verbal sparing. I'll go over there and get some rest," she pointed to a nest of blankets that they had been using to catch naps. "You wake me in two hours and you get some sleep then." 

McQueen waited until Jenny was settled in the shadowy corner of the room, before going back to where Shane was talking softly to a restless Cooper Hawkes. 

"How's he doing, Captain?" The Colonel knelt beside the bunk. 

"He fell asleep a few minutes ago," Shane whispered, still letting Coop hold her hand. "How're you doing, Sir." 

"I've been better," he rubbed his eyes. "If Jen's predictions are correct, tonight was the worst of it." 

"She doesn't look like she can take much more," Shane looked over her shoulder, seeing only the outline of the sleeping woman. "She looks worse than she did when we picked her up off of Kordis, but it could be the black eyes." Though the swelling had subsided a lot in the last few days, the area around the Doctor's eyes was every shade from black/purple to a yellow/green. 

"I've only seen her look worse once," it had been a year, but McQueen could still remember what Jen had looked like when he walked into that hospital room in Houston. 

"When she was mugged?" Shane was holding Hawkes' hand in one of hers, with the other hand she was unconsciously rubbing the back of his arm. 

"She told you about that?" McQueen frowned. That was something he hadn't expected. 

"I cut her hair, Sir," Shane didn't need to say more, they both knew about the scar on the back of Jen's neck and how she got it. 

"What else did she have to say?" He was looking at the sleeping woman across the room. 

"Nothing," Shane saw McQueen watching Jenny. "She never talks about herself but...." 

Shane stopped in mid sentence when Jenny began to toss and turn, mumbling in her sleep. The young Marine watched in amazement when her commander got up and moved to the woman. McQueen knelt beside Jen and pulled the blanket up around her shoulders as he talked softly. Words that only Jenny and he could hear. The sound of his voice quieting her. He sat with her for a moment before returning to the other end of the room, where Shane had quickly averted her eyes. The Captain knew she had caught a glimpse into the private life of her commander and she wasn't sure she was comfortable having seen it. 

"Nightmares," McQueen murmured as he sat back down. He had forgotten that Shane was in the room. 

"I had hoped she wasn't still having them," Shane looked back at Jenny. 

"What do you mean?" McQueen wondered how much the 58th knew about Jenny. 

"When she was quartered with us she used to wake up screaming," Shane couldn't meet McQueen's eyes. "At first she would walk the ship for hours, then for some reason she stopped doing that. When she would wake with a nightmare, she would go back to sleep and sleep through the night," Shane wasn't going to tell him about finding Jenny sleeping clutching a sweat shirt. Whoever the shirt had belonged to was very important to the Doctor and Shane didn't think McQueen would understand. 

"Did she talk to you about her nightmares?" He hadn't realized Jen was still having them. She hadn't said a thing to him about them since that first night in the alcove. 

"No, Sir," Shane looked at Hawkes as she spoke. "She didn't say anything to us about them. We, decided that if she didn't want to talk about them, we'd respect her privacy. I'm not sure we did her any favors by doing that. If it had been one of us, she'd have demanded to know what was wrong and not let go until we talked." 

"I think you people have her number," McQueen grinned. 

"Sir," Shane turned to her commander. "I realize that something is going on that's classified. Something she's involved in." Shane and Vanessa had talked about it and were worried. The Doctor was working on something in her quarters, something that Ross and McQueen knew about, but no one else. "But isn't there anything you can do? She doesn't belong out here." 

"None of us belong out here, Vansen," McQueen's voice was crisp and brooked no response. 

"Colonel, I'm worried about her," Shane whispered. "I don't think she's as tough as she pretends." 

"How so?" McQueen watched Vansen fidget, "you started this Vansen, finish it." 

"I'm not talking about in Sickbay or when she's functioning as a doctor," Shane squinted her eyes picturing Jenny, searching for the right words. "Anyone who can amputate a man's arm with a K-bar and a survival saw, has what it takes, but inside all of that there is someone else completely. The part that really worries me is that I think she hides that person from herself as well as others." 

"Go on," she had caught his attention completely. 

"Well, Sir, every once in a while," Shane stopped and licked her lips, not sure the in-vitro man would understand what she was about to say. "Every once in a while, when she's tired, or doesn't think anyone is looking, I catch a glimpse of another woman in there. One who's hurting badly." 

"Vansen," McQueen sighed. "We've all been hurt in one way or another, that's life." 

"Yes, Sir," Shane had taken the matter as far as she dared. A quick glance at the Colonel and she knew that without hard evidence she wasn't getting anywhere on the matter. She had done all she could do for the moment. How could she explain to a man who had never shed a tear, about a woman who would cry silently, fighting to keep it a secret?   
...................................... 

May 15, 2064 Jenny's Quarters 1900 hours 

Jenny was missing something in her research. She shook her head as she decided that she was going to have to start from the beginning. She still didn't have an answer for Commodore Ross. So far she had found nothing out of the ordinary in her notes. 

"Dr. Kirkwood," someone knocked on her hatch. "It's me Cooper, can I come in?" 

"Hi Coop, how're you feeling," Jenny opened her door for the young man. "You look great!" 

"I'm feeling much better, Doctor," he smiled. "I wanted to thank you for what you did for me. I was out of it, but I knew you were there all the time, both you and the Colonel." 

"This never should have happened in the first place, Coop," Jenny had been furious when she found out that phyllophetamines were still in the Navy's Pharmaceutical Formulary. The doctor who had prescribed them for Coop had been a 'swing-shifter', one of the medical personal who moved through the carriers, working two to three week assignments to help out in emergencies. 

"Lady-Doc, even if you'd been there," Coop shrugged, "it was so busy, the casualties coming in so fast, you'd probably have been in surgery. The other doctor would have taken care of me anyway. I need to ask you about something else." 

"Sit down, you look worried," Jenny offered him the desk chair and took her usual place on the side of the bunk across from him. 

"It's something that happened when we were on the Bacchus," Hawkes mumbled. "It's kind of embarrassing, but I need to ask you about it." 

"Coop, remember I'm your doctor as well as your friend," Jenny smiled. She was afraid she knew what was coming. "You can tell me anything and it won't go any further." 

"There was this woman," he couldn't meet her eyes. "And yes we did, well, you know....?" He blushed when he thought about the experience. "but that's only part of what's bothering me. Dr. Kirkwood, she was an in-vitro, and she had a baby," the only way he could tell this was to just say it. "And well, she had a whole pile of Greens." 

"Wait. Back up here a second." Jenny was trying to find the root of his worry. "I gather you were with a woman. You slept with this lady." 

"She was no lady, Doc," he answered emphatically. 

"That's what I was getting at," Jenny smiled. "She was a woman who slept with men for money? And that's bothering you?" 

"No, well yes a little," Hawkes needed Jenny to see what was wrong. "What I want to know is how a woman like that gets a pile of Greens. She was taking them by the handful and she had a kid and everything to raise." 

"You're not worried about your health?" Jenny needed to make sure. 

"No way, Jenny!" Coop grinned, "I may have been inexperienced, but I'm not stupid. I know how to take care of myself." 

"You're wondering where she got all the Greens?" Jenny looked over at her research disks on her desk. "Did this woman work for the Bacchus?" 

"I guess so," he shrugged. "She lived there. It's so wrong for her to be taking those things and be a mother and all. How can that be allowed?" 

"That's a good question, that I don't have an answer to. You had some blood work done today," Jenny needed one more thing from Hawkes. "Would you mind if I did a DNA scan on it?" 

"I guess not," he didn't understand what his DNA had to do with anything. "But what about...?" 

"I want to check something," Jen's mind was already on what she needed to do. "Can I get back to you about the rest of this. I have an idea, but I have to check it out first." 

After Coop left, Jenny went to work. She pulled up the two in-vitro DNA scans she had in her notes. These scans belonged to Patsy Howard and the first in-vitro, Max, the son of Roger and Marla Abaan. 

Max had been born after a nine month gestation period that produced a baby, instead of the six year gestation period that produced an 18 year old. There were no growth hormones added. Since subliminal teaching programs weren't necessary, there was no need for a neck navel that gave access to the brain. The infant that was produced was like any other baby. 

The Abaan's had been childless. When Marla was able to conceive, she had been unable to carry to term. They had been a research team in genetic engineering who were active in fighting the growing problem of infertility among the human race. 

As she was processing Hawkes' DNA, Jenny began researching the drug phyllophetamine. By midnight, a terrible picture was forming. She needed more samples of in-vitro DNA to prove her hypothesis and she knew of only one place to get any. 

"Col. McQueen," Jen knocked on his hatch, she knew it was late, but she needed his help. "It's Dr. Kirkwood." 

"What do you want Jen?" A sleep rumpled McQueen answered the door. He was wearing sweat pants and a t-shirt that left little to the imagination. 

"I may have found something," she mouthed in the corridor. "But I need your help," was added in a whisper. 

"In here," he turned on the light on his desk, as he let her into his quarters. "What have you found?" 

"So far it's only an hypothesis," she took a deep breath working up the courage. "I need a sample of your DNA. A few cc's of blood would do." 

"What's this all about?" McQueen didn't like it, but he trusted Jenny. 

"May I use your computer, I'll show you," Jenny pulled disks from the bag over her shoulder, as they moved to his desk. "This is DNA taken from Patsy Howard, next to it is the DNA structure of Max Abaan, nothing so far," Jen scrolled to the next page. Here I've added Coop's DNA. See this odd peptide strand? There's a third amino acid there. Look, here is my DNA, beside Patsy's and Max's. All three contain a double amino acid on that peptide, not the triplet like on Coop's. I need to see if you have a pairing or triplet on your DNA in that spot." 

"What are you trying to prove here?" McQueen was fascinated by the DNA mapping. 

"This is going to sound far-fetched, so hear me out. What if that extra amino acid is the cause of phyllophetamine addiction?" Jenny could tell he wasn't following her. "Patsy has no problems with Greens, she was given them at one time for her knee when she fell. She never developed an addiction. She has a double amino acid, not a triplet." 

"If that triplet has anything to do with phyllophetamines, and that's a big 'if', how do you know that the Greens didn't cause it. Not the other way around." McQueen leaned over Jenny, one hand on the back of her chair, the other hand on the desk. "Maybe there is something in the drug that would cause a mutation in some in-vitros?" 

"Because of this, " Jenny changed screens. "Look at this. It's Coop's DNA structure, taken from his medical file. This screening was done when he was put into the judicial system, and it was passed along to the Marine Corps. At the time this was done, he had never had any Greens. I rechecked his tonight to be sure. Look and tell me what you see, when I put the two screens together." 

"They're the same," McQueen looked down into Jenny's face. She was so close her hair tickled his arm when she moved her head. "It could mean nothing." His mind was working and he didn't like the picture it was producing. 

"One of the things I've never understood about phyllophetamine addiction is why it would effect in-vitros only," Jenny took a deep breath then plunged in. "I can't prove any of this, but what if that extra amino acid was put there on purpose?" She let her statement sink in before continuing. "I've done some research. Aerotech marketed the phyllophetamine family of drugs in 2041, but had been researching it for 6 years before that. The In-Vitro Authority is owned and operated by Aerotech. You were born in 2042 and you're one of the oldest patients I've ever treated for addiction to Greens." 

"That alone should disprove your theory," it made McQueen sick to contemplate the implications, if Jen was correct. "I was in the tank when that drug came on the market." 

"No it doesn't!" Jenny wanted badly to be wrong, but she needed for McQueen to look at all the angles. "Haven't you ever wondered why the survival rate for gestational in-vitros was only 20%? I have. What if someone was manipulating DNA to produce a drug controllable human being? And 'oh so sorry, but until I get it right, they're nothing but lab rats! Expendable!' If that was the case, they would wait to put the drug on the market until they knew it would work." 

"Take it easy, Jen," McQueen wanted to hit out at something, but didn't want Jen to pick up on his anger. 

"Coop was telling me about a prostitute he met on the Bacchus," Jenny stressed the name. "Again, a place owned and operated by Aerotech. She had a box full of Greens. Phyllophetamines aren't easy or cheap to come by on the street. Remember I told you and Commodore Ross that I wasn't working on anything at the time I was transferred from the In-Vitro Health Facility to the Moonbase, but that I was waiting to hear on three grant proposals. One of the grants was for research into the cause and prevention of phyllophetamines addiction." 

"I think you had better take that blood sample," McQueen clenched his fists at the implications of what Jen might have uncovered. "Even if I have the triplet, it's just supposition, but Aerotech's name comes up too often for my liking." 

"I know this sounds like ranting," Jen stood, moving out of the light and into the shadows. She had enough of the picture of Amy McQueen grinning at her, from beside the computer. *"I may be a fool to love him,"* Jen thought as she had glared at the picture. *"But you were the bigger fool to have stopped loving him."* "There's one other thing, Ty. I believe that's the only copy of the Abaan's research notes in existence." 

"How did you get them?" He liked this less and less as she talked. 

"When I was researching my book, I went to see Dr. Abaan. He was a sad old man. His wife and son had been killed by AI's. He was living in seclusion in his native Philippines," Jenny turned to the porthole to watch the stars, still seeing the look on the old man's face. "By the time I met Dr. Abaan, he was sick with disgust at what the world had done with his ideas. I think he gave me his field notes to make amends." 

"It wasn't his fault," McQueen watched Jen turn her head to look at him. "But those notes prove that Max Abaan isn't the myth people pretend he is." 

"I'm sorry, Ty. I'd never bring this to you, if it weren't so important," she turned, her eyes catching the bunk he had recently crawled out of. Her mouth went dry as she could make out the imprint of his head on the pillow. "A..a..you realize I can't prove any of this? Even if we were back on Earth, I'd have to turn this over to a genetic engineer," she was relieved that she was able to find her train of thought, again. 

"Jen," McQueen moved quietly behind her and gently turned her around. "How long since you had a full night's sleep?" He looked into her eyes, still bruised from when her nose was broken. He could smell the rose scent that was always a part of her. McQueen felt his quarters shrink. A bunk that was three feet away was suddenly too close for comfort, or was it? 

"I'd say about a year," Jen laughed up at him. "You're not one to talk. Coop's detox was as rough on you as it was on him." She knew they were standing too close, but she didn't want to move away. His hands were still on her shoulders and she could feel the warmth of his sides under her palms. *"When did I reach for him? Have I always held him like this?"* Nonsense thoughts flashed through her head. 

"The information in those notes has waited this long," McQueen whispered, his head nodding slightly toward the bunk. "One more night won't make any difference. The choice is yours." 

Was he asking what she though he was? Jenny could only stare into clear blue eyes that were everything she had ever wanted. As if the Saratoga could feel the uncertainty that was beating through two of its occupants, it bucked. The ship made the decision. Causing the man and woman to hold on to each other for support for one moment, then they pulled quickly apart. The ship righted itself and resumed it's course, but in it's heart could be heard the hum of *"later, when the time is right."*   
.............................. 

May 16, 2064, 2230 Commodore Ross' Quarters 

"Go over this one more time for me Doctor," Commodore Ross rubbed his sore head. Not only was Operation Roundhammer heating up, but Kirkwood and McQueen were in his office with an outlandish idea that made his skin crawl. "This time in English, please." 

"Okay," Jenny took a deep breath and looked over to McQueen for support. "This is a comparison of DNA from five different people. The first three are from people who have never had addiction to phyllophetamines, two of which are in-vitros, one of which I know has taken Greens for pain relief." 

Jenny went back over her theory, building her case as best she could. If what she thought was true, then Aerotech or someone working for them had done gene manipulation to produce in-vitros that could be easily controlled by giving them an addiction to Greens. 

"You're telling me that you think this is what was in your research that made it so important someone would kill for?" Ross looked at Jenny thoughtfully. 

"That is assuming we haven't been chasing our tails," Jenny smiled. "There could be nothing here to begin with. I don't know anymore, but this is all I've been able to come up with." 

"What do you think, Ty?" Ross turned to his friend who had been silent up until now. 

"Sir, I don't know what to believe either," McQueen shook his head. "When Jen showed me this last night I was skeptical, but my DNA mapping showed the same as Hawkes'. And I've never trusted Aerotech." 

"Commodore," Jen cut in. "If this extra amino acid has anything to do with phyllophetamine addiction, it would be a reason for recall of the drug. As far as I'm concerned that's reason enough to pursue it. No more men and women given a medication to help them by an unthinking in-utero, and ending up addicted." 

"Okay," Ross looked from McQueen to Kirkwood. "I'm going to send this on to General Savage. This isn't to be discussed outside of this room. Dr. Kirkwood do I have all the disks I gave you?" 

"Yes, Sir," Jen indicated to the pile on his desk. "And the one with my report on it." 

"Good work, Doctor," Ross nodded. 

"I don't know about that, Sir," Jenny reached for her bracelet, then noticed both men watching her hands, dropped them to her sides. "The thought that someone might have created this problem for financial gain, makes me sick to my stomach." 

Ross looked from McQueen to Jenny. They were sitting as far apart as possible. Unlike the last time they had been in his office, McQueen made no attempt to give the Doctor any support. 

"You said it yourself last night, 'lab rats'," McQueen's icy voice cut across the room. 

"NO!" Jenny stood, hands on her hips facing the Colonel, forgetting that Ross was there. "Don't you ever refer to yourself in that derogatory manner again, or any other in-vitro. You are a man, a human being, no different from any other person on this ship!" She turned away and caught the shocked look on Ross' face. "I apologize Sir," she whispered. "I'm just so sick of fighting this fight." 

"Then maybe it's time you gave it up?" McQueen whispered from behind her. 

"What?" she spun around. "I can't change what I believe." 

"Even when it costs you so much?" McQueen pushed. "When it makes people hurt you? Hate you? When it could cost you your life?" 

"Even then." She turned to Ross, "Sir, may I be excused? I don't believe there is anything I can add to this conversation, that hasn't already been said." 

"Jen," McQueen called out as she moved to the door. 

"No, Ty," she turned glaring at him. "I've never expected you to be other then you are. How can you expect me to be less then I am?" She turned away from McQueen, unable to look him in the eyes any longer. Then whispered raggedly, "it's already cost me far more then you'll ever know." 

The door clicked shut as she left. *"For once I'm doing the walking out,"* she thought. Heading for her quarters. She felt again, all the loss she had felt when he had walked out on her in Houston. Never again would she let a man break her heart! 

"McQueen!" Ross glared at his friend. "What the hell was that all about? I've never seen you be knowingly cruel, before!" 

"Cruel? She doesn't have a clue what she's walking into," McQueen turned to his friend. "Sir, if anyone hears about what's in her report, she's as good as dead. Letting that happen would be cruel!" 

"You think Jenny may have stumbled onto the root of all this mess, too?" Ross wasn't sure if he was angered or relieved that McQueen thought as he did. 

"There are too many odd things happening recently for me to be comfortable," McQueen walked to the porthole and gazed out at the stars. "Did you know she was mugged at an In-Vitro Rights Rally a year ago? It wasn't someone out to rob her, they wanted to hurt her, and they did." 

"Oh my God! That's why she was on sick leave when the war started?" Ross poured a drink for himself and one for McQueen. 

"Yes Sir," the Colonel took a drink from his glass. "And that fight earlier in the month? She shouldn't have gotten hurt like she did." 

"You think there was more to it than meets the eye," Ross moved to his safe with the mini-disks. 

"Nothing I can prove, or those men would have spent their time in irons in Sickbay, instead of the brig." McQueen finished his drink and put his glass on the Commodore's desk. "I wish you would wait to send those disks on to Savage, Sir. If someone wasn't trying to kill her before, they'll be after her when those go public." 

"Ty," Ross sighed. "I've got to send this on to General Savage, the ramifications are too great. He'll handle it quietly, he's not stupid. Besides, if we let it go, can you imagine the public fuss Dr. Kirkwood would raise? That would really put her in danger. As long as we keep her here on the Saratoga, and let Savage deal with this back on Earth, we minimize her risk." 

"You trust him that much, Sir?" McQueen turned to his friend. 

"With my life!" 

"But this is Jen's life we're talking about." McQueen felt something move in himself. A barrier stretched very thin. He could almost see through it. He knew if he could, he'd understand what had been nagging at him for months. But as quickly as the barrier had thinned, it thickened again and became an impenetrable wall. 

"I realize that. I don't want her hurt either, but this needs to be done." Ross sighed, not liking the situation any better than McQueen did. "Now you get some sleep. You haven't had much lately, and it's showing. We have a busy time ahead of us in the next few weeks."   
..................................... 

May 20, 2064 Saratoga 

The shit had good and truly hit the fan. The 15th Earth Fleet was amassing in the Pegasus Sector for a major assault: the first step in Operation Roundhammer. The Saratoga had been chosen as War Operations Headquarters for the retaking of an airstrip on Demios. One couldn't walk down a corridor without running into an officer of Fleet Rank. If the Chigs had known, they could have wiped out a major part of the command structure of Earth Forces by taking out the Saratoga. 

Ross had been right when he said that there were busy weeks ahead of them. McQueen was grateful for that. As long as he kept busy he didn't think about Jen and what had almost happened in his quarters the week before. It was at night when his mind was too tired to keep thoughts of her out, that they slipped in uninvited. *"I don't have time for this,"* he muttered as he punched his pillow. *"I'm a soldier, that is my 'genuine path'. But why do thoughts of Jen keep slipping in when I least expect them?"*   
.................................. 

May 21, 2064 Saratoga - 2100 hours 

McQueen was feeling old, very old. Today he had spoken like a soldier, spoken with his head, but his heart may very well pay the price. The invasion of Demios had been a disaster! With every second that passed the Saratoga was going further and further away from all that had become important to McQueen in the last year. The 15th fleet was heading toward Ixion, a planet 50 AU's away from the Chig's home planet. In doing so, it was leaving 25,000 troops trapped on Demios. Among those men and women were the Wildcards. 

"Ty," Ross joined McQueen in an almost deserted mess hall. A yellow Marine Corps telegram gripped in the Commodore's hand. He saw his friend pull back in surprise. "No, this isn't for you. Don't worry. After they checked in at 1900, nothing else was heard." 

"I always thought I was safe from those things," McQueen gripped his coffee mug. "I guess I was wrong." 

"I got the list from the Eisenhower," Ross stopped, remembering the long list of names from the destroyed carrier. "Joan Brill's daughter, Donna, was CMO on that ship. I've just come from there now. Jenny went with me, thank goodness. Joan took one look at the telegram in my hand, thanked me, and then asked me to leave. I could hear her crying through the hatch." 

"Any chance she's on planet?" McQueen wasn't sure which would be easier, knowing right away, or this terrible waiting. 

"No," the Commodore sighed. "They hadn't dropped medical personnel yet." 

They sat drinking coffee, neither man talking, each remembering the angry words that had passed between them earlier in the day. Each glad the other was there. 

"Ty," Ross cleared his throat and looked up at his friend. "I'm sorry about what I said this morning. You were right, you know? You were only saying what we all knew to be right, but didn't want to say." 

"Sir, in theory those words were right." McQueen tapped the yellow envelope sitting between them, "but this isn't theory." The 'deathgram' sitting between them made the Colonel wonder how he could have spoken out so vehemently, twelve hours earlier, on the military advantages of leaving Demios in favor of Ixion. 

"Glen," Jenny joined the men at the table. She was pale and they could see she'd been crying. "Joan's resting now, I gave her something to help her sleep. I'll take this," she pocketed the telegram. "Joan'll want it when she's thinking clearly." 

McQueen handed her his half full coffee cup and she took it gratefully. Wrapping her hands around it to keep them warm as she drank the strong black liquid. 

"Thanks for the help," Ross hated that part of his job.   
  
"I think she knew already, there were so many rumors circulating about the Eisenhower. Take it from me, confirmation is easier than the uncertainty of not knowing." Jen's eyes filled for a moment as she remembered what it was like to wait. The days and hours she'd spent wandering the cliffs above Catalina Harbor. The momentary relief she'd felt when she read Ty's name, followed by tears. 

"You were a big help," Ross smiled at her, knowing that she was remembering a loss of her own, he wished he could ask her about it. "Joan's been in the military so long, that my presence was forcing her to act like an officer, but with you, she was able to act like a woman." 

"I'm glad I was able to be there. She's my friend." Jenny closed her eyes and took a deep breath, "she'd do it for me." She looked into the empty coffee cup, anything to keep from looking at the face she really wanted to look at. "I finished your coffee, sorry, Ty." 

"That's okay," McQueen breathed a sigh of relief. They hadn't exchanged a word that wasn't necessary for their jobs, since he'd angered her in Ross' office. "You looked like you needed it more then I did," he smiled. "Besides, I've had enough of it today to fuel the Saratoga for a month." 

"How're you holding up?" She covered his hand with hers. 

"Doing what needs to be done," he answered cryptically, giving her hand a small squeeze, before breaking contact. 

"As your doctor, I say cut back on the caffeine," she smiled at McQueen, understanding his need to keep a tight reign on himself. "But as your friend, I say do what ever it takes to get you through." 

Jenny pulled her eyes away from McQueen's. Ross was watching them closely. She quickly regrouped and slipped into doctor mode to pull her wall back in place. 

"You two look exhausted," she looked from one to the other. "If we're to get back there anytime soon," Jenny's voice broke as she spoke of Demios. "You'll need your wits about you in the coming days, get some sleep tonight, Doctor's orders........And please, when you hear from them," she spoke to both men, but was looking at Ty. "Keep me posted? I mean either way, good or bad." 

Ross was about to speak when he heard McQueen's soft voice, "Jen, you'll know what we do, I promise." 

"Thanks, Ty," she met his eyes, then got up quickly and left. 

"I wonder who's there for her when she needs it?" Ross watched the Doctor leave the mess hall. 

"Sir?" McQueen looked inquiringly at his friend and commanding officer. 

"She dips into that well of strength of hers so often," Ross was still watching where the woman had left the room. "I wonder who listens to her cry?" Then to test a theory he added, "there was a time when I'd have liked it to be me." He hid a slight grin when he saw McQueen's hands tighten on the empty coffee mug. *"Too bad those two were still in love with other people,"* Ross thought. *"That's a friendship that had possibilities, if either of them looked further than the pain they were carrying around."*   
....................................... 

Planet Demios, June 20, 2064, 1800 hours 

Wang and Damphousse were in a small cave guarding the radio. Vansen, West, and Hawkes had gone to investigate debris that had fallen on Demios earlier that day. 

"They'll be back soon," Wang pushed his dirty hair out of his eyes. He was exhausted. The only thing that kept him going was remembering McQueen's words to him in a darkened mess hall weeks ago. "It's almost time for check-in." 

"Shane'll be back for that, she'd check in from hell, if she could find a way to take the radio with her," 'Phousse grinned at Paul. Their eyes held for a moment, then they both looked quickly away. 

"Vanessa..." 

"Paul, don't say it," she warned, panic in her voice. 

"I don't want one of us to go through life, regretting it not being said," he whispered. 

"Either we all live, or we all die," 'Phousse grabbed his shoulder. "No one is going to regret anything!" 

"Then since we're all going to live," Paul smiled at her. "I want you to know that I think we made the wrong decision when we got back from R&R. When we get off this hellish rock and have some time to ourselves, I'm going to prove it to you." 

"Paul?" Vanessa's jaw dropped open as her heart warmed. 

"I care about you, Vanessa, I care about you a great deal," he took her hand and gave it a squeeze. "Live or die, there is no one I would rather be with right now." 

'Phousse only had time to shake her head in agreement, as West called out the recognition code. 

"We struck gold, man," Hawkes grinned as he pulled his pack off. "K-rations! A whole box full. That makes five cans each." 

"Easy guys," Vansen warned. "We need to make those last. Who knows when we'll find more. I don't know about you, but I'm sick of eating grubs." 

"Somehow, I don't think I'll ever look at sushi the same again," West laughed as he helped Coop divide up the cans while Vansen and Damphousse put through the nightly call to the Saratoga. 

An hour later they huddled in the cave, as rain poured down outside. For the first time since they had been left there a month ago, their spirits were lifted. 

"I never thought K-rations would taste like a gourmet meal," 'Phousse rubbed her stomach. "All we needed was a bottle of wine to make it complete." 

"May I suggest to the ladies," Paul bowed his head to Shane and Vanessa, and used a mangled French accent. "The '60 Sarah, it's a full bodied wine, but won't overpower the flavor of preservatives found in the K-rations of the day." 

"Don't even talk to me about wine," Shane held up her hand as she grinned. "I can't believe the headache I had after that party with Dr. Kirkwood." 

"You," 'Phousse giggled softly. "Jenny was a bit green for two days!" 

"So?" Coop looked slyly at the two women. "What do you guys talk about when it's just the women?" 

"Probably the same things you do," Shane challenged. "When it's just the you, West, Wang and McQueen." 

"McQueen?" Nathan looked at Shane in surprise. "He doesn't talk to anybody, at least not like you mean." 

"He does to Jenny," 'Phousse was looking off in the distance, trying to clear cobwebs from her memory. "Talk to her about important things, I mean." 

"To Jenny?" Hawkes couldn't picture it. "How do you know?" 

"I don't know," Vanessa shook her head. "I just do." 

"Hold it there," Paul put his hand on her shoulder. "This isn't more ESP is it?" 

"No, no!" She shook her head. "There's been no more of that, thank goodness. It's something I think I overheard, them.....talking about...." 

"Not the Colonel," Hawkes interrupted. "Jenny's natural-born. He says in-vitros and natural-borns don't mix. At least not, well you know, men and women type things." 

"I guess 'once burned, twice shy," Vansen sighed. "We better turn in, we're off at first light tomorrow. We've hidden here for too long already. I'll take the first watch."   
.................................... 

The Saratoga June 20, 2064, 1945 hours 

McQueen and Jenny were finishing dinner. They met in the mess hall as soon after the 58th's 1900 call in as they could. Many nights, one was leaving as the other would arrive, and there would be time for nothing more than a quick exchange of news. Often neither made it due to heavy fighting and a backlog in Sickbay. But they were becoming a regular sight in the mess, the Colonel and the Doctor. 

"They're still cut off from other troops," McQueen took a bite of food that he wasn't tasting. "But some good news, tonight they found a rations drop that hadn't completely burned on entry." 

"How do they sound, Ty?" Jen put down her fork, her appetite completely gone. 

"I can't tell through all the static," he shook his head and threw down his fork. "Damn, how much longer can this go on?" 

"Some Marine I once knew told me, 'it takes as long it takes,'" Jen murmured, remembering what McQueen had told her during their first mission on the Yorktown, when they had both been with the Angry Angels. 

"Sounds like a guy that's big on military theory," he grunted, recognizing his own words. 

"I always thought he was a pretty smart guy," Jen added. "He also knows the right thing usually isn't the easy thing." 

"How's Joan doing?" McQueen changed the subject, not wanting to think about all he could lose if they didn't take Ixion soon. 

"As well as can be expected," Jen shrugged. "Some days are easier for her than others. She heard from her younger daughter, Caroline, this morning. Caroline works at the Pentagon, so there's little chance she'll get sent out here, which is a big relief to Joan." 

"Give her my best, will you? I need to be getting back," he stood. 

"I do too," Jen got up too, they both looked at the uneaten food on their plates and shrugged. "Tomorrow?" 

"Tomorrow." McQueen walked away, it was as close to a promise as he could give her.   
................................. 

July 23 2064, Saratoga, 1935 hours 

The night before, the 58th's radio message, 'that they had retaken the airstrip on Demios,' had turned the tide of battle. Tonight there was no message from the five stranded Marines. Joan Brill's heart had hurt for Jenny as she had watched McQueen come stiffly into Sickbay, as the doctor was getting ready to meet him for dinner. They had talked quietly in Jen's office. Joan didn't need to hear the words to know that there had been no transmission received tonight. The grim expression on the Colonel's face had said it all.   
................................ 

July 24, 2064 Saratoga 0130 hours 

Joan watched as Jenny Kirkwood walked out of Sickbay. The young woman had been on duty for the last 17 hours as the battle to take Ixion raged on. The word from the bridge was that Earth was on the offensive again, instead of fighting to defend the small amount of space they had taken in the first few days of the attack. 

Jenny didn't realize where she was going when she left Sickbay. All she knew was that she had to get out of there for a while. She was surprised to find herself standing in front of the door with the flushed out cards painted on it. Caressing the insignia she smiled as she punched the door code. A little surprised to discover that it hadn't been changed since she was quartered here months ago. 

Standing in the dark room, she could almost hear breathing nearby. Closing her eyes she smiled at her fanciful imagination. Maybe if she tried hard enough she could feel them as well as hear them. 

Walking over to Damphousse's upper bunk, she rested her aching head. Reaching her arms out until they were stretched almost the length of the bunk, her hands gripping the blanket. She could feel the tears well up. At first they ran down her face in silence. Wetting her cheeks and the blanket below them. Finally her breathing became jagged and rough as she let herself go, knowing she was alone. No one to see her weakness. Only ghosts in the room and stars outside. 

The incessant buzzing on her wrist unit broke through her misery as she realized Sickbay was trying to reach her again. Straightening, she wiped her face, neatened 'Phousse's blanket, squared her shoulders and went back to work. 

Stepping out from the shadows on the opposite side of the room, the man in the Angel black flightsuit, watched her leave. He realized he could finally answer Glen Ross' question from two months ago. "I do Glen," McQueen muttered into the darkness. "I listen to her cry." He wanted to go to her badly, but he was afraid that if he touched her, he wouldn't want to stop.   
.......................... 

August 7, 2064 Ross' Quarters, Saratoga, 2300 hours 

Twelve days earlier the flag of the United Nations of Earth was raised over Ixion. The Saratoga turned back to Demios to finish what had been started two and half months earlier. 

"I know I said I'd drink that glass of rum when the battle for Ixion was over," Ross pointed to a half-full shot glass that was sitting on his desk. "But I don't consider that battle over until we see what's left on Demios." 

"Sir," McQueen's mouth tightened as he tried not to think how many days it had been since he had heard from the Wildcards. "I want to go with the Search and Rescue team that goes to the airstrip." 

"I figured you would," Ross looked at his friend across the desk. "Are you sure you'll be all right?" 

"I have to be!" McQueen had refused Ross's offer of a drink, needing to be cold sober. 

"No you don't," the Commodore watched McQueen lock out his emotions. "If they aren't there. If we can't find them, Ty. Don't shut them out. Don't do that to their memory." 

"But I..." 

"You gave sound military advice, as a soldier, which is as it should be." Ross was tired, but he knew McQueen was still being eaten by guilt over what he had said two months ago. "Knowing what you know now, would you speak differently than you did back at Demios?" 

"I don't know Sir," McQueen looked Ross in the eyes. "I guess that depends on what I find on Demios. 

"Get some sleep," Ross advised. "No matter what you find down there tomorrow, it's not going to be easy."   
....................................... 

2330 The Wildcards Quarters   
  
McQueen quietly let himself into his squad's quarters. As the hatch closed behind him he heard a noise and reached for the light with one hand, his pocket, where his butterfly knife was kept, with the other. 

"No, please, no light," Jenny Kirkwood uncurled from the bunk that had been hers and then Kelly Winslow's 

"What are you doing here?" McQueen leaned against the hatch, not sure if he was more embarrassed at being caught, or relieved because there was someone else to join him in his vigil. 

"I couldn't sleep," Jen shrugged. "The door code hasn't been changed since I moved out." 

"I couldn't sleep either," he rubbed his eyes with his left hand as he began to move restlessly around the room. "I can't remember the last time I got more than two consecutive hours of sleep. 

Getting up from the bunk and carefully neatening the blanket, Jen turned to the tired man, "I'll leave you in private, then." 

"No, Jen stay, please," McQueen moved to Coop's bunk and sat. "You left too quickly the last time." 

"The last time?" Jen walked over to him, wanting to be close, wanting to sit beside him, but not having the courage. "You know I've been here before?" 

"I saw you the night...," he looked around, having a hard time talking about that night. "The first night they didn't transmit." 

"Oh," she gasped. 

"Jen, it's okay," McQueen reached for her. "Sit down," he tried to pull her to the bunk beside him, but she moved to the deck at his feet. 

"I didn't realize anyone saw me," she flushed. 

"That's why I didn't make my presence known. I should have, I'm sorry." 

"It's okay," Jen was relieved that he hadn't. The way she'd felt that night, if he had touched her, she would have grabbed on tight and never let go. He would have hated that and her for it. 

"What am I going to do if none of them are alive?" The anguish in his voice a palatable thing, as he leaned his elbows on his knees. His posture so unlike the Colonel, that Jen was taken aback. 

"I wish I could tell you that I know they're still alive." Jen reached for his arms, placing her squarely between his knees. "All I can say is I believe they're still alive." 

"Do you, Jen?" McQueen looked down at her. "Do you really believe?" 

"I don't know if it's because I want it so badly, that I've made myself believe, or if it's a true belief. All I know is that I have faith." 

"Faith, yeah right," McQueen reached into the pocket of his flightsuit and pulled out Nathan's photo tag. "They gave me this at Christmas, because they had faith in me, to always be there for them. And I wasn't, I failed them." 

"No, Ty," Jen got up on her knees, so they were at more of an eye level. "How often have you told me that the military isn't a democracy? It wasn't a vote, with your's the deciding factor!" 

"Then why does it feel that way?" 

"Because you care about them," Jen put her hands on his shoulders. "Look at me, Ty. How is this any different than Kazbek?" 

"You have to ask?" McQueen nailed her with an icy stare. 

"I want to hear you say the words," Jen didn't flinch from the cold look. "So tell me, how is this different from Kazbek?" 

"Because I'm not with them," he whispered. 

"That's right," Jen smiled as if he was a pupil who had learned a very hard lesson. "Once back in detox, you told me you always wanted to be a father." 

"Don't you ever forget anything people tell you?" McQueen wanted to change the subject, he felt as if they were moving too close to something that only he could look at. 

Smiling she gently squeezed his shoulders. "Congratulations, Dad, this is part of being a parent." 

"No, Jen, you don't know what you're talking about," but as he said the words he realized they were true. Hadn't he referred to them as his kids. When Winslow was killed, he remembered thinking that he would avenge 'his child.' 

"I know of at least two of them, that already think of you as a father figure," Jen relaxed as she saw realization move over McQueen's face. 

"Just what I need, another defining moment," he shook his head, as he thought of the implications of caring so much. 

"Pardon?"   
  
"Did you ever wonder why going after Chiggy Von Richthofen was so important to me?" McQueen looked at the woman before him. 

"Yes," suddenly Jen couldn't meet his eyes any longer. She shifted her position until she was sitting on the deck, her legs curled up, and her right side against his left leg. "I knew it was much more than killing a superior enemy. For some reason you took it personally. That's why I didn't argue with you about the removal of the MEF." 

McQueen shook his head, as if some question deep inside of him had been answered. For the first time since he and Jen had discussed the removal of the MEF, he felt something settle in him and it give him an inner peace that had nothing to do with the 58th. 

"I had gotten it into my head that Von Richthofen was," McQueen searched for the correct word, "my personal enemy?" That wasn't right, but it was as close as he was going to get. "He was the reason I was created. If I went up against him I would have the answer to 'who I am.' It became my defining moment." 

"Did it give you any answers?" Jen had her own opinions on defining moments, but she wanted to hear his. It had been a long time since they had talked like this and she was realizing how much she missed their friendship. 

"Yeah, for about three hours!" McQueen shook his head as he thought back to that night 

"Maybe it was all the scotch you had to drink?" Jen grinned at him. 

"No," McQueen shook his head at his folly. "No, I kept drinking that night because the moment was slipping away from me." 

"What did you learn about Tyrus Cassius McQueen that night?" Jen rested her arm and cheek on his knee and stared him in the eyes. 

"I learned I had the strength to do what needed to be done," McQueen thought hard to remember what had slipped away from him that night. "That caring about someone else gives me greater strength than only caring about myself?" 

"Would you still have thought that if Kelly hadn't died?" Jenny probed. 

"Yes," McQueen frowned, as he thought about what he felt before Kelly Winslow had died and what he felt after. "Yes. I was afraid for the 58th. That's why I went out there. That's how Kelly was able to convince me not to argue with Ross, when Schrader was given the assignment." 

"I wondered about that," Jen whispered. 

"Was that defining moment, realization, or whatever you want to call it leading to this?" McQueen pointed to the darkened quarters of the missing people. "Leading me to this empty room?" 

"No, Ty," Jen moved closer to him, laying her hand on his arm. "That night doesn't lead to this one. They're two separate nights, two separate thoughts. This room would be just as empty tonight, no matter what you did that last time. If you hadn't killed Von Richthofen, this room might have been empty long before now. Besides, whose to say it's going to stay empty?" 

"I don't think I can take too many defining moments like these," McQueen whispered. "If each time I have to rethink who I am." 

"Then why don't you try thinking in terms of 'crossing of fords, instead of defining moments?" Jen chided him gently. 

"Miyamoto Musashi?" McQueen whispered. 

"Didn't he say, 'in the course of a lifetime there will be many points that could be called crossing a ford'?" 

"I believe he wrote that," McQueen smiled. "You think that life is a series of defining moments or crossing of fords?" He leaned close and held her face in his hands. Clear blue eyes meeting gray ones. 

Jen was finding it hard to breath with him almost surrounding her. "Instead of thinking of that moment, when you killed Von Richthofen, as an ending, that tells you who you are. Think of it as an on-going process. I like to ask myself, 'who can I be? What am I capable of becoming?' Not just 'who am I?'" 

"What are you capable of becoming?" His question caught her off guard. She was frozen, unable to move. 

"I won't have the complete answer until I die." She felt as if she was drowning. 

He must have seen something in her eyes, because he changed the subject, almost losing her. "You were there that night, weren't you?" 

"Hmm?" 

"That night when I was so drunk, you were there," he smiled at her as if he had an answer to a puzzle. "When I woke up Joan Brill was sitting there, but you had been there during the night, hadn't you? I keep remembering you there, beside my bunk, asleep. Your head on your arm," McQueen shook his head to clear the picture. "Sitting much like you are now." 

"Yes, I was there," Jen could feel her face flush. "Ross came and got me. We were worried about you. I stayed with you while he went and got Joan." Jenny knew she was rambling, but couldn't help it. "Ross was done in and I knew you would be upset if I stayed so we got......" 

"Shhhh, Jen," McQueen just looked at her. "It's okay. You didn't frighten me, you know? Seeing you like I did, wasn't what made me think I was in detox again." He remembered her crying when he had asked her if he was back in detox. "I was confused from all the scotch, it would have happened no matter what. You being there was all that kept me from panicking." 

"You remembered what you said?" Jenny could feel her face begin to turn red and hot. 

"Yes," he whispered. She was so close and he wanted to hold her so badly. "That's not the first time I've awakened and wondered if I was back on the Greens. Each time it's happens, I always hope it'll be the last." To distract himself, he moved his right hand from her face to her wrist. Rubbing his thumb over her soft skin, as he fit it between her wrist and her bracelet. 

"Ty," Jen tried to pull back, but he held her. No force, just one hand on her face and the other circling her wrist. Could he feel how her pulse had jumped at his touch? Was he doing this on purpose? 

"Will you answer something for me honestly?" McQueen decided it was a night for honesty, he was going to go for the bottom line. "Why do you wear this bracelet all the time?" 

"I..." Jen began to panic. How could she tell him the truth and not break her promise with the Universe? 

"Jen?" He had seen the way her eyes turned to black coals and her nostrils flared. "*So you feel it, too."* McQueen thought, relieved that he wasn't alone in the pit of feelings that he had found himself caught in over the last months. 

She took a deep breath before she answered him. "It goes back to what we were talking about before," she felt her lips tremble as she tried to form the words. "My first defining moment took place almost as I was born, when my mother died. If not for that, I would be a totally different person. Being raised by Patsy, made me who I am." 

"The bracelet?" Ty chided. 

"I'm getting to that," she licked her lips and saw his eyes flare. "Because of the way I was raised, there was only Patsy in my life. Between books, sailing and Patsy, I didn't need anyone or anything else. Besides, I was so much younger than all my classmates, most of the time, there wasn't much common ground," she shrugged her shoulders as if that was an answer. 

"Then all of the sudden I had two friends, two wonderful people were a part of my life." Jen spoke carefully, telling only what she had thought the year before, not what she knew to be the truth now. "One of those people died the night the Angry Angels fought the Chigs. The other one? Well, I was thoughtless, careless of his feelings. I lost him on a dark night in Houston, when I let my principles hurt him and he walked out of my life the next morning." 

"You think that's why I walked out?" McQueen slid his hand from her cheek, to cup the back of her neck, his fingers finding the scar that had come between them. "I left because I couldn't stand to see you hurt by people's hatred of me or my kind." 

"No, it was never because of you. It was all set in motion way before that," Jen shook her head. "My first step toward that mugging in Houston, happened when my father handed me over to Patsy to be raised." 

"Good try, Jen," McQueen smiled at the woman inches away from him. "But you forget you wore that bracelet night and day since I gave it to you, not just since the war." 

"Ohh," Jenny was caught, unable to move or breath. She knew her face said everything she was feeling. 

"That's what I thought," he murmured as he moved slowly, giving her time to move away if he had read her wrong. One arm moving around her back, the other still holding the back of her neck. He gave into years of wanting as he felt her lips under his 

"Ty," Jen whispered as his lips met hers. She slid both her arms around his neck, kissing him as she had always wanted to. She felt him pull her to her knees, her body tight against his. She was surrounded by him. 

McQueen's arm moved down her back until he pulled her up on the bunk, twisting his body until she was under him. He remember the night before Kazbek and how he had held her, and the peace it had given him. Kissing her, tasting her, moving his hand beneath her sweater gave him so much more. When his hand came in contact with a lace covered breast, he pulled back, watching the glazed expression on her face. Her hand on his neck brushed against his navel. He threw back his head and gasped as sensations rocked his body. 

Suddenly McQueen saw where he was. He had Jen bent over Coop's bunk and was a breath away from making love to her. *"What was he thinking? Not in here, anyplace but here."* 

"Jen!" He stiffened and pulled away from her. "No, we can't," he whispered. He saw confusion and hurt fill her eyes, followed by fear. 

"Oh my God," Jen pulled away from him as realization dawned on her. What was she doing? She had promised! She had made a deal! How could this have happened? "This.....this can't happen," she straightened her sweater and ran from the room. 

"Damn, damn, damn," he muttered. "Way to go McQueen!" Even in detox Jen hadn't been afraid of him. Tonight, in a moment of weakness he had changed all that.   


TO BE CONTINUED 

  
  
  
  


  
  



	5. Ch: 5 Nightmares And Dreams

ch5.html All characters and plot devices that are taken from Space: Above & Beyond are the property of it's writers, produces and the owners of the series. They are used without permission. No copyright infringement intended. Quotes from the following have been used (single quotation marks are used to denote quotes): The Book Of Five Rings by Miyamoto Musashi, translation by Thomas Cleary; Romeo And Juliet by William Shakespeare; the song You Belong To Me by Pee Wee King, Redd Steward, & Chilton Price; Eldorado by Edgar Allan Poe; all are used without permission. No copyright infringement intended.   


CH: 5 NIGHTMARES AND DREAMS   


*The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,   
Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit   
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,   
Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it.*   
.................................. 

August 8, 2064, 0105 hours 

Jenny ran out of the Wildcards' quarters as fast as her legs would carry her. Her head swimming and her heart pounding. She had to get away. She had to hide, but where? Where on this huge ship could she be alone, and be sure McQueen couldn't find her? Deciding the effort would be futile, if he wanted to find her, he would, she headed for her quarters. There at least she could lock the hatch. 

It took forever to go the short distance to her cabin. Slamming the hatch and securing it, she took a deep breath and let the tears come. She'd made it. Here there were no eyes to watch or see her guilt. Moving quickly in the dark she leaned her head against her porthole. "Don't let anything happen to any of them! I'll never slip up again, I promise! Pax?" She begged as she lay her hand on the window to reaffirm her bargain. 

"Oh God, Gloria," Jenny whispered, as she got up and moved stiffly to her bunk. "I wish you were here to talk to. I've really made a mess of it this time," she cried as she fell into a restless sleep. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   
"Hey, Kirkwood," Gloria Collins stepped to the table in the Tun Tavern where Jenny was sitting. "Your mind go walk-about, again?" 

"Hmm," Jenny looked up at the tall blond who was watching her with some concern. "Gloria! I'm so glad to see you!" 

"You just saw me ten minutes ago," Collins grinned at her friend. "What happened that's so important?" 

"I don't know," Jen shook her head, feeling as if she was watching herself from a great distance. She looked around the Tun and saw all the people she knew. Time and space had taken a strange twist. 

The Angry Angels were drinking and laughing at a corner table. Hawkes, West, Winslow, Wang, Vansen, and Damphousse were playing poker across from the Angels. Ross and McQueen were at the bar having a drink. Both the bartender from the Saratoga and the Yorktown, were working the extra large crowd.   
  
Over in a far corner of the room, on a little section of dance floor, that looked like a slice of the Casino Ballroom on Catalina, Frank Savage and Patsy Howard were dancing. A soft sweet song was heard in the background. The shadows of a large dance band were moving on the wall behind the dancing couple. Jenny could just make out the words of the invisible singer, 'fly the ocean in a silver plane, see the jungle when it's wet with rain, just remember 'till you're home again, you belong to me.' 

"This doesn't seem right," Jenny muttered as she tried to shake some sense into her head. Her eyes coming to rest on McQueen.   
  
"You've gotta stop sniffing that anesthesia, Angel-Doc," Collins teased. "So what was so important that you needed to see me?" 

"I..well, I.." Jenny pulled her eyes away from the silver-haired man at the bar and met Gloria's hazel ones. 

"Oh, I get it," the tall woman grinned. "So you finally figured it out, did you?" Gloria lifted her beer mug and toasted McQueen's back. "So tell me is he a good kisser?" 

"Gloria!" Jenny gaped at her friend. 

"Yup," Collins laughed. "That's what I thought. Don't tell Philip I said this, but McQ has a great mouth. I figured he'd be a good kisser. I know, I know, you're attracted by hands......of all things?" Gloria rolled her eyes. 

"It's not like that!" Jen argued. 

"He's not a good kisser? What a disappointment," the sassy blond sipped her beer. "I guess it's something you two'll have to practice until you get it right. In the mean time, those hands can be doing....." 

"Gloria, shut-up!" The Doctor interrupted, "That's not what I need to talk to you about." 

"Jenny, did that Iceman hurt you?" Collins shot McQueen's back a dirty look. 

"No, well yes, but it's not his fault. I made this deal with the Universe months ago, 'if it kept Ty and his squad safe, I'd never let my emotions show. Never let him know how much I love him.'" Jenny felt tears forming as she talked. "I didn't mean for it to happen, really I didn't. I didn't tell him what I felt, but I let him kiss me." She bit her lower lip as she tried to convince herself as much as Collins, that the kiss didn't matter. 

"A deal with the Universe?" Collins nodded her head. "That can be a tricky thing. The Universe makes it's own rules, and bends them when it wants to. Did you kiss him back?" 

"Yes," Jen whispered. "I figure it doesn't count though, because he doesn't want me." 

"How do you figure that?" Collins had seen the looks McQ would aim at the little doctor, when she wasn't looking. The Angels had a betting pool going, on how long it was going to take those two to figure out they were more than 'just friends.' 

"He got carried away," Jen reasoned. "Because he's afraid that the Wildcards have died on Demios," she shrugged as if that explain it all.   
  
"We're talking about McQ here," Collins reminded her friend. "The man doesn't know the meaning of 'carried away' or 'afraid.'" 

"We were alone last night. I've always been someone he could count on. He needed human contact, so he kissed me and....well. When he realized......" She blushed as she moved her hand toward her left breast, remembering him pulling back as she had felt his warm palm through the lace of her bra. "When he realized who I wasn't, or rather, WHAT I wasn't, he stopped." 

"Pleeeaassee, give me a break," Gloria cut in. "He did more than just kiss you, or you wouldn't be this upset." 

"It's not what you think....."Jen flushed as the klaxon began to ring in the distance. 

"You forget how well I know you," Gloria stood with a grin. "Gotta run, take care. Oh, by the way, they're safe, *this time.*" Then all that was left of Gloria Collins was the echo of her voice and an empty beer mug. 

The klaxon sounded louder and the speakers blared to life "BATTLE STATIONS, ALL HANDS REPORT TO BATTLE STATIONS, BATTLE STATIONS, ALL HANDS REPORT TO BATTLE STATIONS" 

In the blink of an eye, Jenny found herself sitting in an empty Tun Tavern. She had to get to Sickbay, but she couldn't move, her body felt too heavy. Taking a deep breath, she gathered her strength and pulled away from the table. 

"Ouch!" Jen gasped as she fell out of her bunk, landing on the deck. The loudspeaker still going off. She shook her head to clear it, "Gloria?" It had been a dream, but it had seemed so real. It was weeks later before Jenny remembered all of the dream. And the importance of what Gloria had said to her.   
....................................... 

August 9, 2064, Wildcards's Quarters 0430 hours 

The sound of the klaxon and the call to battle stations awakened McQueen from a restless sleep. He knew instantly where he was and what day it was. The Saratoga must be within range of Demios. 

Sitting he rubbed his eyes and tried not to look across the room at Hawkes' bunk. His dreams had been haunted by Jen in the few hours he'd slept. Jen sitting on the deck looking at him with trust. Jen's soft mouth under his. The feel and taste of her. The look of fear and hurt when she'd run from the room. 

"Damn," he muttered. He could still smell her in the empty room. He had slept on the bunk where Jen had been sleeping when he came into the Wildcards' quarters the night before. The bunk that had been Winslow's and Jen's. Pulling the pillow to his face, he took a deep breath. No wonder he had dreamt about her, her rose scent was on the pillow. He stood, quickly stripping the casing from the pillow and stuffing it in his flightsuit as he strode out of the room, taking what little bit of her with him that he could.   
................................... 

August 9, 2064, Sickbay 2135 hours 

Jenny moved quietly from bunk to bunk, checking on the 58th. She had been in surgery when McQueen had brought them in. The day had been a messy one. Out of the 25,000 troops that had been left on Demios almost three months ago, only about 2000 were recovered. Many of those in need of emergency medical care. The casualties had been divided between the Sickbays of the three ships that had returned for them. Even now, many of the survivors were being sent on to hospital ships in safer areas. 

"Jenny?" Vanessa Damphousse whispered, from the bunk below Shane's. 

"Shhh," Jenny knelt beside the young woman. "How're you doing there?" 

"It was pretty bad, Lady-Doc," the Marine shuddered as she remembered some of the things they had seen and done to stay alive. "You don't look like it was much easier on you guys." 

"When your radio stopped transmitting, it was like living in hell. We had to keep fighting to take Ixion, when all we wanted to do was be here." Jen leaned over and hugged the young woman, then sat on the deck, holding her hand. "We were so worried about all of you." 

"We were pretty worried ourselves," Coop turned over to face the doctor, from the bunk next to Vanessa's 

"But you're back," Jenny reached for one of Coop's hands as she sat between the two Marines, holding on tightly to what had almost been lost. "You're safe now." Jenny gave a silent *"thank you,"* that her slip of the night before had been over looked. 

McQueen stood, at the partially opened hatch, with his hands fisted at his sides. He wanted badly to be part of the group that was on the other side of the door, but he had let them down. The 58th by leaving them on Demios and Jen by taking advantage of her. He couldn't make himself go in. It had been one thing when he had gone in with Ross earlier, but now? No, not now. 

"Colonel?" Joan Brill whispered to the man standing and watching. "Go on in, they'll be glad to have you there." 

"No, Commander," he turned back to face the sad eyed woman. "I don't belong." 

"Ty," Joan smiled as she watched him look with longing at the group through the small opening. "I think you're wrong about that, but why don't you let them decide?" 

She watched as he reached for the door. His hand froze on the handle, as something very much like *pain* crossed his face, causing his features to stiffen. He shook his head as he turned and walked away. Watching the Colonel's straight back as he disappeared out of sickbay, Joan felt a stab of loneliness that cut her to the heart. 

*"No, it hadn't been pain, she'd seen in his eyes,"* she thought. *But fear?"* What had McQueen seen that would cause him to react like that? She took a quick look in the darkened room, but all she saw were six people enjoying each other's company.   
..................................   
  
August 18, 2064, Catalina Island 0800 hours 

"I want to thank you for coming, on such short notice," General Frank Savage smiled at the men who were seated with him in Jenny's study. With one exception, the men who were gathered there had been part of a monthly poker game that had been going on for years. They were also, the men that Savage trusted the most. 

"What's this all about, Frank?" Thomas Harding, Admiral USN, asked. "Are you really going to get married, or is it just a cover to bring us all here so we can talk openly?" 

"I'm getting married, Tom," Savage grinned. "At least I will be, if Pats doesn't take one look at you guys and decide she's not up for a package deal." 

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" James Alexander, US Senator from Oregon, shook his head. He and Savage had been roommates at Lewis & Clark College in Portland, and friends ever since. 

"I've never been more sure of anything in my life," Frank grinned at his friend. "What, no comment from you, George?" Savage looked at General George Robertson, USMC. 

"Hell, Frank," the Marine, snorted. "You know my opinion on marriage! A soldier is married to the Corps, all the rest is just a distraction." 

"Well, I'm looking forward to being distracted for the rest of my life," Savage laughed. "Now, down to business, gentlemen." 

"Sirs," Maj. Mark Gomez, Savage's attache, stepped forward, along with another man. "I'd like you to meet Jack Longley he's the genetic engineer who's been working on the information that was sent to us from General Savage's source." 

The slim red haired man stepped forward, a bit in awe of the company he was keeping now-a-days. When his cousin, Mark Gomez, had brought him in on this, he hadn't realized the scope of the project. 

"Well," Jack pushed his glasses back on his face, as he dug through his notes. "I've been going over what was sent to me, and doing some research of my own. What I've found leads me to believe that the hypothesis set forth in this report may be correct." 

"Hrumph," Gen. Robertson, shook his head. "Then you think Aerotech was breeding Tanks that would be addicted to phyllophetamines?" 

"I didn't say that, General," Jack pulled out the graphs he was looking for. "All I am willing to say, at this point, is that the triplet amino acid in question, is present in all of the in-vitro DNA that I sampled, except Miss Howard's. Of the seven other in-vitros I sampled, five had taken phyllophetamine and had addiction problems, at one time. Miss Howard is, by the way, the oldest of all the in-vitros sampled. And the only one to have taken the drug and not become addicted. 

"It should be noted, that all of the natural-borns I tested have a double amino acid and of course there has never been an addiction reported in the natural-born population, even on large doses of phyllophetamine." 

"Where does that leave us?" Senator Alexander paced the room. 

"Take it easy, Jamie," Frank always thought his friend wasted a lot of energy pacing. "I am doing a quiet search for in-vitros that are within a year of Pats' age, but it's going to take time, if I don't want to tip our hand." 

"Senator," Dr. Longley added. "We need to find other in-vitros with the double amino acid and test them to find out if they are susceptible to phyllophetamine addiction. And we need to find out the reason behind the change of that amino acid from a double to a triplet. It could be nothing more than a fluke. An improved way of gene splicing that had a bad side effect?" 

"No offense to your lady, Frank," Tom Harding cut in. "But is this what's really important? I'm more interested in the fact that troops may have been massacred to hide this, not what Aerotech may or may not have been doing." 

"It's important," Savage looked each man in the eyes. "Because there is only one person who has the power to disband the In-Vitro Health Facility; send them all out to vulnerable positions; and then get them killed. Only one person, that is, who has an affiliation with Aerotech, and that's Diane Hayden, Secretary General of the United World Federation." 

"Jesus, Frank!" Jamie Alexander glared. "You sure know how to open a can of worms!" 

"Got any bourbon around here?" Admiral Harding suddenly needed something to fortify him. "A sun is over a yardarm, somewhere in the universe."   
................................... 

August 18, 2064, New York City, Diane Hayden's home 1900 hours 

"Carleton, I didn't expect you until tomorrow," Diane felt for her wine glass and sipped. She could hear Stryker doing a search for bugs. It told her this wasn't a casual visit. "Have you eaten?" 

"No, but I can get myself something later," Carleton Stryker kept searching until all seven rooms were carefully checked and he was sure that all of the staff had gone home. 

"Here drink this," she offered him a glass of wine as he came over and kissed her. 

"We may have trouble," he took the glass from her hand and seated himself were he could hold her other hand. 

"What kind of trouble?" Diane didn't like trouble, and she hated surprises, especially this kind. 

"Someone's been doing some snooping around in-vitro DNA structuring from years ago," he rubbed the soft skin of her wrist. "There's also a quiet search for older in-vitros going on. I can't pinpoint the source." 

"Are they going to be able to find anything?" Hayden felt recently, that too many things were slipping out of control. 

"I've got a search of my own started," Stryker kissed her fingers. "With access to Aerotech's records, it should be easy for us to get to them first." 

"That damn Kirkwood woman is still alive, isn't she?" Hayden vented her frustration. "I had hoped she would die on Demios, when I heard about it, but they didn't have time to drop medical personal before the Chigs attacked. I'm not even sure she was scheduled to be in on the drop. Anymore overt attempts to rearrange her assignments will red flag them." 

"Too bad she wasn't on the Eisenhower," Stryker shook his head at their luck. 

"The Saratoga has been very lucky, what if it's luck were to change?" Hayden smirked, "what do you think, give you a little revenge, as well?" 

"They've messed up our plans before," Stryker thought back to how close he had come to being caught when he had injected that damn Tank with the mind control drug phyllophetamine-3. One of the few drugs in that family that didn't cause addiction, due to its odd neutron, but it made in-vitros highly susceptible to hypnotic control. "But if we do it, we need to be very careful. With all that's going on, I'm not sure how much longer we can depend on Wayne." 

"Hhmm," Diane leaned her head back to think. "Maybe there's a way we can get him out to the Saratoga, and get rid of a number of problems at the same time." 

"What do you have in mind?" Stryker could tell Diane had been giving this some thought. 

"We could leak Operation Roundhammer to the Chigs, by way of the AI's. The last message I had from them informed me that the Chigs blame Wayne personally for the encroachment on their space and the theft of the Sewell Fuel. 

"What good is that going to do us?" Diane had been keeping secrets from him again, and he didn't like it. They were a partnership and partners were supposed to work together. 

"The Chigs will do anything to protect that moon of theirs, though I've no idea why. If they knew they could take out Wayne and prevent the invasion of their moon, they'd do it. From what the AI's tell me, they have a special assassination team waiting for the chance to get at Wayne." 

"Will the Chigs be that easy to manipulate?" Stryker, liked the plan, but wanted to make sure it would succeed before committing to it. 

"The Chigs have no more understanding of us than we do of them," Hayden smiled. "I think that's why they allied themselves with the AI's, in the first place. I think it's worth a try." 

"Is that Tank Lieutenant Colonel still on the Saratoga?" Stryker hated the in-vitro, not only for having interfered in Chaput's assassination attempt, but because there was something about him that held a fascination for Diane. 

"McQueen?" She grinned like the Cheshire Cat, "don't tell me you're jealous, my dear?" *"Yes, she would settle all her old scores at one time."* Years ago when working in the In-Vitro Rights Movement, she had been attracted to the brooding Marine. He had pretended to be oblivious to her come-ons. The rebuff still stung.   
........................................ 

Planet: Minerva, August 22, 2064, McKendrick's Bunker   
  
Major Cyril McKendrick looked around his bunker in the side of a burned out hill. He hadn't spoken to another human being since those Marines tried to take him with them in late April. Too often, recently, his mind wandered back to the conversation he had had with that young in-vitro. At times he could almost see Lt. Hawkes as they had talked in the tank. Yes, he had been lonely then, and he was lonely now, but he was getting close to completing the task he had set for himself. Too close to give up, no matter how lonely he had become. 

Tonight he had deviated from his well scheduled life. Bedtime could wait! More of the strange AI code was being transmitted again. He was working frantically to break the code. Over the last year, he had become adept at deciphering Chig messages, but this AI mumbo-jumbo had him stumped. 

He was worried because there had been an increase in the traffic of messages over the last 24 hours. His eyes blurred as he threw down his pen. "I may be lonely, Lt. Hawkes," McKendrick muttered. "But if I'm very lucky, I may have this figured out soon." *"Well, Cyril, my boy,"* McKendrick grinned to himself. *"I guess I'm not to old to have an imaginary friend. As long as I realize he's imaginary, I haven't lost it completely."* 

Hours later, when he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer, McKendrick stood and saluted his Colors, "God save the King." Turning toward the Seventh Calvary Flag that was hanging next to the flag of England and his regimental flag, he gave a moment of silent respect to the American allies. He had taken that flag off the old tank when it had given out thirty kilometers from his bunker when returning after taking the Marines to their landing zone. "When one is too tired to do ones job, even an Englishman must sleep," he whispered as he headed toward his bunk.   
........................................ 

August 30, 2064 New York City, Diane Hayden's home, 2350 hours 

The phone ringing woke Hayden and Stryker. It was the Secretary General's private phone, used only in emergencies. 

"Hello," Hayden answered and listened as she received the news. 

"What is it, Diane?" Stryker reached over and covered her hand that was resting on the phone that she had closed, ending the conversation. 

"They say the Chigs want to open peace negotiations," she shook her head. "I don't understand, didn't my AI's do as I told them to do?" She stood to dress, "General Cartwright is bringing over a copy of the proposal. There may still be something we can do about this." 

An hour later, Stryker and Hayden sat in her study going over what the General had brought. Diane's graceful fingers moving over the Braille swiftly and carefully. 

"I don't believe this," Stryker murmured as he read further. "Diane, they want E. Allan Wayne present for the peace talks, and they're going to take place on the Saratoga. The question is, are they genuine?" 

"I doubt it," Hayden shrugged. "Even if they haven't gotten the information about the assault coming at them from their moon. I think it's a way to kill Wayne. I think that's their motive. Plus it will slow us down while we're negotiating, so they can be moving troops." 

"Is this the result of your message to the AI's?" Stryker wondered.   
  
"Does it matter, the out come is the same," Hayden smiled. "Wayne will be on the Saratoga, along with the added bonus of, possibly a major player in the Chig chain of command." 

"I have the man for the job." Stryker grinned. "He's careful, quiet and expendable. He can plant a little something in the room where the negotiations are taking place, and it'll never be found. And I'll plant a little present in his belongs, that'll make him disappear." 

"I think I'm going to start tomorrow off with a news briefing. Bringing good news to the world," she grinned at Stryker. "We're ending the war. Will it be our fault those lying Chigs can't be trusted, when they blow the peace negotiations to bits, along with the Saratoga?"   
............................... 

September 1, 2064 Saratoga, 1100 hours 

"Damn that woman," Commodore Ross glared at the television monitor in his office. "I thought she wasn't going to announce this until we figured out if it was real or not?" The question was more rhetorical than anything else. Who was going to argue with Diane Hayden? The Secretary General had gone public with the peace offering by a lone Chig. *"Was she so interested in making peace, that she'd grasp at straws?"* Ross wondered, as he reached for an aspirin. His head was pounding and his throat was getting scratchy. 

The night before, a single Chig vessel had approached the Saratoga, requesting permission to board, carrying with it a peace offer. Now all there was to do was wait until the Alien Interpretation Unit and people further up the chain of command, than the Commodore, figured out what to do. For the first time in over a year, the Saratoga sat anchored in space and waited. What they were waiting for would only be known in time.   
.................................... 

Mess Hall 1340 hours 

Ross and McQueen had sat down to lunch, but neither man was very hungry, though both knew they needed to eat. The Alien Interpretation Unit had arrived an hour ago. The 'spooks' as the shadowy men were referred to, came and went as they pleased. Seeming to have all the authority in the world, but never responsible to anyone. 

"Dr. Kirkwood," Ross called out. "Jenny, join us please." He made it more of an order as he saw the doctor's eyes move over their table then past them. The woman had seen them, but was going to pretend she hadn't. The marked change in her since the siege of Ixion, made the Commodore wonder what was going on. 

"Yes, Sir," she pulled out a chair and sat. Jenny could feel her stomach clench. She knew McQueen was avoiding her, since they had let things get carried away the night before picking up the Wildcards on Demios. But then she had been avoiding him as well. "Glen, you look ill." 

"It's just a headache, Jenny," but even as he spoke, he could tell that he had managed to catch something. 

"Excuse me for having to contradict the Commodore," Jenny lay a hand on his forehead. "but, Glen, you're running a fever." 

"You think so?" Ross sipped coffee that didn't taste right. 

"I know so," Jenny smiled. "After you're through eating, you should go to Sickbay and have them give you something. I think you're coming down with a cold." 

"Actually, Doctor," Ross stood and reached for his tray. "I'll head there now. It's going to get busy over the next few hours. Anything they can give me, to get through it, will be a help." 

As Ross walked away, the two people left at the table began to concentrate on their food. Both uncomfortable with being alone together, neither wanting to leave the other. 

"I really need to be going," Jen couldn't meet McQueen's eyes. She had lost her appetite and if she wasn't going to eat, she couldn't think of an excuse to stay. 

"Wait, please," the Colonel reached for her hand, but pulled his away before it came in contract with her. He could see the fear and doubt in her eyes and he couldn't stand it. "I'm sorry for the other night, it shouldn't have happened." 

"I'm sorry too," Jenny fought to make herself smile. She knew why she had been avoiding Ty. As long as they didn't have this discussion, she could pretend that it had only been their inopportune surroundings that had caused him to pull back. 

"Jen, look at me?" McQueen whispered. He was tired of her avoiding him, when she always used to look at him with trust, even when she was angry with him, she had met him straight on. 

"I..." She raised her chin defiantly and gray eyes met blue ones. "I'm looking at you." 

"I don't know what came over me that night," McQueen was ready to tell the biggest lie of his life, if it would bring things back where they belonged between them. "I wasn't thinking straight. I wasn't myself." 

"If I remember correctly," Jen sat very straight. His words had been the final blow to any hopes she had entertained that things were changing between them. "Ty, you weren't alone in your actions. I didn't exactly...exactly..put up a fight," she whispered. "And it's not as if anything really happened," she rushed on, a clear picture in her mind of them crushed together on Coop's bunk. 

"Jen," he spoke quiet and low. "You don't need to be afraid of me." 

"Afraid of you?" It caught her by surprise that he would think he had frightened her, "I've never been afraid of you." 

"No, you never were, until that night," McQueen wasn't going to let her hide behind politeness. 

"I wasn't ......." Jen stopped, realizing that it would be better for him to think she had been afraid, than to know the truth. "I was just caught by surprise, that's all." 

McQueen watched her fiddle with her bracelet. Something wasn't right. She was showing sighs of fear, but she didn't appear to be afraid of him. If she had been afraid that night, she wasn't now, though something was definitely wrong. 

Searching for anything to change the conversation, Jen grabbed the first thought that came to mind. "So, do you think these peace negotiations are for real?" 

McQueen could tell she didn't want to talk about that night anymore, but she was talking to him again, and that was a start. "I'm not sure what to think. I've learned that Chigs aren't to be trusted." 

"What if it's really the ending?" Jen shook her head, having trouble imagining it all being over. "What will you do?' 

"I'm a Marine," McQueen couldn't admit, even to her, the doubts he had felt when he had to leave all those people to die on Demios. His head had known it was the correct decision, but his heart was another matter. "I'll do as I always do. What about you?" 

"I can't go back to life as it was," Jenny reached in her pocket and pulled out the most recent letter from Patsy. Her fingers playing with the edges of the envelope. "I had planned to go home to Catalina, but now, I don't know?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"Patsy is about to make some decisions that could change her life. She's really in love with Frank Savage, I don't want her to have to factor me into the equation when she's deciding what to do. And they do say that 'three's a crowd,'" Jen shrugged, as if that explained it all, but she knew it didn't. "She's always put her life second to mine, but not this time. I won't let her do that." 

Jenny couldn't very well tell McQueen how much she was going to need someone to hold onto in the months to come. How much she needed someone to be there for her, after all the death she had seen. How much she needed the one person in her life that she knew loved her, when she was going to be saying good-by to the one man she had discovered she would love. No, she couldn't tell Ty any of that. 

"You could stay here, there's always need for a good doctor, even in peace time." McQueen wanted to picture Jen always here, safe on the Saratoga. 

"No. No I can't. The Navy isn't for me," Jen shook her head. "More importantly, I don't think I'll ever pick up a scalpel again, when this is over." 

"Jen, don't make any sudden decisions," McQueen knew that war changed people, but this wasn't something he had expected to ever hear. 

"There's nothing sudden about this," she shook her head. "I've known for a long time that when this was over, I was through as a surgeon. Too many people died on my operating table during the siege of Ixion, because I lacked the skill to take care of them. I'm a darn good general surgeon, but I was doing surgeries that called for speciality training in vascular, cardio-thorasic and God forbid, even neuro! We all were." 

"That happens in war time, when you're on the front lines." It was hard for him to imagine Jen as anything except what she was. "But how many did you save, that would have died if you hadn't been here?" 

"No, it won't work," Jen met his eyes. "It takes a certain something.....Many call it ego, to be able to take a knife and cut into another human being, to decided to save this part, but sacrifice that part. I don't have that anymore. I make myself do it everyday, and I will until this is all over, but then I'm through. Besides, I took an oath that starts out 'first do no harm,' not 'first do no harm, except in time of war'." 

"If you've felt this way all these months, all during Ixion, why didn't you tell me before this?" McQueen was troubled, things were changing too fast. "We ate dinner together almost every night. Why didn't you say something?" 

"Those dinners," Jen smiled. She thought of them as an oasis of calm in the storm that had raged all around them. They had been all that kept her together during those months. She and McQueen had been like two raw and bleeding people leaning against each other for the few minutes it took them to exchange news about the battle and take a deep breath before returning to fight their own sections of the war. "Those dinners were about the 58th, I couldn't add to what you were carrying around by telling you what was going on with me. Anymore than you were able to tell me what you were really feeling about the Wildcards." 

"You don't lean on anyone, do you, Jen?" McQueen accused. 

"That's the pot calling the kettle black," she smiled as she danced around the question. "Besides, going to medical school was my last attempt to please my father. It was never my 'genuine path'." 

"'Then a little bit of crookedness in the mind, will later turn into a major warp.'" McQueen quoted from The Book Of Five Rings. "Is that what you're thinking," the quote came easily to mind, because he had been studying it lately himself. 

"This isn't the time for Japanese philosophy...." Jen was remembering the last time they had quoted Miyamoto Musashi and what it had led to.   
  
"Maybe you're right," he murmured as he searched to find a topic that wouldn't keep bringing his mind back to kissing her. "What will you do, if you don't go back to Catalina, it's your home?"   
  
"Home? No, McQueen, home is where the heart is," she was on dangerous ground. Sitting at that table, she knew for a certainty that her home was where ever this cool strange man was, so she would have to settle for never having a home. A place where they had been together often, would have to do. "I'm going to write Lars asking him to get the Windswept out of dry dock. There are so many places I've wanted to see. Now's my chance." She closed her eyes and could picture herself on her boat. *"Yes that would do. She knew she would find a piece of him on the Windswept."* 

"Where would you go, if you could go anywhere like that," McQueen needed to be able to carry a picture of her in his mind, doing all the things she wanted to do. 

"I've always wanted to fall asleep under the Southern Cross,"Jen smiled. "Go through the Panama Canal and down the east coast of South America. Then test my seamanship, like the sailors of old by fighting my way around Cape Horn. Can you imagine that, Ty, being right there at the bottom of the world, where there is nothing but water circling the globe, as you go from the Atlantic to the Pacific?" In her mind, they were no longer on the Saratoga, but following a tossing sea to all the places they wanted to go. "Then I'll keep heading west and explore all the islands of the South Pacific. I'll keep on going until it's no longer the Pacific. Seeing the Greek Islands, the Aegean Sea, and the Mediterranean. Search the coast of Africa, for the perfect beach where every wave that hits the shore is a perfect wave." 

"Damn, Jen," McQueen didn't like what she had planned at all. "Now I know why Patsy worries about you on that boat. You'd be safer in the middle of the war, than to take on a trip like that by yourself." 

"Please, Ty," Jenny picked up her cold coffee cup then put it back down. "This isn't something that's open to debate. Why can't we just talk anymore without ending up either arguing or....." Jumping up quickly, as she realized what she was going to say, she grabbed her tray. "I really need to get back to Sickbay. Have a good day." 

McQueen sat for a moment watching her back as she moved swiftly out of the mess hall. *"Ending up arguing or.... what? What were you going to say? And why couldn't you say it?"* He had never seen Jen pull in her words before. This was the woman who had faced down Spencer Chartwell on the issue of in-vitro civil rights, and written a book that would have made Harriet Beecher Stowe proud, but sitting here with an old friend she couldn't say what was on her mind. Later when he had time, he was going to have to think about it all.   
...................................... 

ISSCV en route to the Nebraska from the Saratoga 1700 hours 

Major Craig Rabwin looked at his watch, if everything went as planned, the peace talks should end at 1800 hours, only 30 mikes after they had started. He had spent the early afternoon with E. Allan Wayne, who due to the time inversion potential of space travel had arrived on the Saratoga from Earth, just hours after he had been sent for. The two week difference in time allowed Wayne to make the long trip and not delay the peace talks with travel time. 

Wayne's speedy arrival had made it difficult for Rabwin to do as he had been ordered, but he had been successful in his mission. No one would suspect the innocent looking computer that had been left in the corner of the room to be housing a time bomb. Once the dust settled from the destruction of the Saratoga, no one would be able to prove anything. Each side would blame the other for duplicity in the peace negotiations.   
.................................... 

Saratoga Sickbay, 1758 hours 

Everyone sat transfixed by the argument that was breaking out in the peace talks. All Jenny could do was stare at the loud speaker as shouting voices jumbled and the sound of breaking glass could be heard. Moments later the rumble of an explosion was broadcast throughout the ship, then everything was silent. Whatever had exploded, had destroyed the intercom system. 

"No, Ty?" Jenny gasp as she grabbed the emergency bag and ran for the door. 

"Jenny, stay here," Chico Voss had heard the pain in her voice. "Joan and I'll do triage." 

"Win," Jenny called out for Corpsman Winston Trosper. "Get the OR's ready, if we're lucky, we'll need them." 

Twenty minutes later, Sickbay was full of people and bodies. 

"Jen," McQueen choked out. His lungs were on fire from breathing the ammonia that had filled the room when the Chig Envoy and broken through the glass. "Jen!" 

"I'm right here, Ty," she held onto his hand as Trosper cut away what was left of his uniform. 

"I trust you," he coughed. "Do what needs to be done, you have it...the ego...do...it. Only you," knowing he was safe with her there he finally let himself give in to the pain and horror of what had happened and passed out. 

"Oh God," she shuddered as she got her first look at the shattered bone and muscle that was all that was left of his right leg below the knee. "Okay people, listen up," she had fallen into his speech patterns without realizing it. "Get some lines in this man and prep him for surgery. Win, pull the ortho basic and amputation pans. Type and cross match at least five units of packed cells. If we don't get the damn bleeding stopped......" 

"Jenny," Joan Brill grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. "Stop it Jenny. You don't have to do this." 

"Yes I do," she smiled at the older woman, thankful for the interruption. She had been going off half-cocked and it wouldn't have helped Ty if she tried to do surgery in that condition. "I promised him I would." 

"Jen," Voss cut in. 

"Do--not--call--me--that!" She glared at Chico, pronouncing each word as if it were her last. Tears filled her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. 

"Jenny," he chose his words carefully, finally understanding the bond between the Doctor and the Colonel was much more than it appeared. "You shouldn't do this, you're too close to the situation." 

"He's a MAN, not a situation!" Jenny met Chico's eyes, knowing he was right, but needing to do it anyway. "Please, my medical skills are all he's ever wanted from me. Let me give him that. I can do what needs to be done." 

"Okay," Chico saw the truth in what he was being told. "I'll assist you, though. Between lung damage from the ammonia gas and the condition of his leg, it'll take two of us."   
  
"I'd like that, but what about the others?" Jenny looked around Sickbay for the first time since McQueen had been brought in, but didn't see any other patients. 

"He's the only survivor," Chico watched as body bags were being taken out of Sickbay. "Come on, let's get scrubbed." Voss wasn't sure that McQueen would survive surgery. He owed it to the Colonel to be there for Jenny. If things went bad, he would have her taken forceable from the OR, if necessary. 

They had used an epidural for anesthesia due to the condition of McQueen's lungs. Then decided to leave it in place for pain control. Surgery had been touch and go getting the bleeding stopped, without damaging the nerve and vessel endings to the lower leg. Jenny had hopes that a transplant or possibly cybernetic prosthesis could be used. She and Chico had been as sparing as possible to the tissue. Only time would tell. They left the stump bandaged with a pressure dressing. A flap would be done when the type of prosthesis was decided on.   
...................................... 

Sickbay 2330 hours 

Sickbay was full of people again. This time it was the prisoners of war that had been traded when the peace talks started. At least something good had come out of that mess. They looked tired, dirty and beaten. Jenny knew just how they felt. 

She quietly entered the bay where McQueen was sleeping. There was one more thing she had to do, and she needed to get it done quickly. They were readying the ISSCVs for departure. The war was back on, so civilians and casualties needed to be evacuated as soon as possible.   
  
"Jen," McQueen muttered as he saw movement in the darkened room. 

"I'm right here," she pulled up a chair and held his hand. "How did you know it was me." 

"Smelled roses," he tried to smile, but even his face hurt. "The letter," he coughed. "Do you still have the letter?" 

"What?" She leaned closer to him. "Don't try to talk." 

"The Kazbek letter," McQueen tried to raise his hand to wipe away her tears, but he didn't have the strength. "Give it to Ross." 

"There's no need," she pulled his hand to her face and felt him gently cup her cheek. "You'll be back, I promise." 

"No Jen," he tried to smile but couldn't. At that moment he was holding all he wanted in his hand and for the first time in his life, he didn't have the strength to go after it. "You've never promised anything you couldn't deliver, don't start now. Give Ross the letter." 

"But..." 

"Ma'am," the curtains to the bay fluttered as a young Corpsman stuck his head in. "We need to load him up now." 

"Give me a minute," she called over her shoulder. "Alone, Sargent!" 

Working quickly, she unfastened her bracelet from the large safety pin attached to the pocket of her scrubs. "Ty, are you still awake?" 

"Barely," things were fading in and out of focus, only Jen was clear in his vision. 

"I want you to take this," she worked quickly, pulling out his dog tags and fastening the bracelet to the chain that held them. Then she tucked them under the hospital gown he was wearing. "Listen to me, Ty. You have my bracelet. It's always brought me luck. It'll do the same for you." 

"But Jen..." 

"No, Ty," she wouldn't listen to what he had to say. "I want you to bring that back to me. It's my luck, I'm loaning it to you. You bring it back to me." 

"Sorry Ma'am," the young Sargent entered the room. "I've got my orders. It's going to get rough out there, we need to get out of here. The Colonel is the last to be loaded." 

Half an hour later Joan Brill went into McQueen's empty bay. Jenny hadn't followed his stretcher out and the older nurse was beginning to worry. What she found was far worse than the tears she had expected. 

"Oh my God, Jenny," Joan rushed to the young woman who was sitting on the floor, her back tight against the wall, legs drawn up to balance an emesis basin she was gripping. Her body racked with dry heaves. "Chico, get in here, NOW!" 

"No, please," Jenny begged between choking. "Get me a wet cloth, I'll be all right." 

"Jenny, you're not all right," Chico Voss knelt between the two woman, with a hypospray in his hand. "I'm going to give you something to calm your stomach," as his hand came up, Jen surged to her feet. 

"NO!" She yelled, feeling hemmed in. "Please, all I need is a little time. Don't you dare drug me!" She had her hands raised in a defensive stance. It had been over a year since Gloria had taught her how to protect herself, but if either of them tried to get any closer, they would find themselves on the deck. "Both of you, back away and Chico, put the hypospray on the floor." 

"Jenny, there's more," Joan spoke softly. "Come over here and sit down, we need to tell you what's happened." 

"Ty?" She looked at Chico, understanding why she was feeling so much pain, McQueen must have died on the ISSCV. "He wasn't stable enough to travel, was he? His lungs... he didn't make it." 

"It's not McQueen," Joan's throat hurt from crying, she didn't think Jenny could take much more, but it was better for her to hear it from them, than someone else. "It's the Wildcards." 

"No," Jenny moved stiffly through the curtains. Looking around, at the now empty Sickbay. "All of them?" 

"Vansen and Damphousse had to eject. Search and rescue has been started over planet 2063Y," Joan's voice faltered. She cleared her throat and went on, "the camera from the ISSCV that brought the POW's in,.... well,..... it recorded the explosion of the cargo carrier where Paul Wang was providing cover for them, to get away. Ross says there is no way Paul survived. I'm sorry Jenny." 

"Vansen and Damphousse, missing? Paul...dead..?" Jen stumbled over the last word. "West and Hawkes?" 

"In their quarters," Chico had checked them out himself. "Physically, they're fine." 

"Thank you both, for your help and concern," Jenny stood very straight and made herself smile. "I'm fine now. I want to apologize for my behavior a few minutes ago. I believe my shift has ended, will you excuse me, please?" She turned and walked out of Sickbay. Her calm appearance in total contrast to the woman who would have fought them off. Her eyes the only clue that anything was wrong.   
............................................. 

Wildcard's Quarters 

West was laying on Paul's bunk and Hawkes on Vansen's. Neither had moved since Cooper came in, both were still in shock. 

"Please, may I come in?" Jenny opened the door to the quarters she swore she would never enter again. Her eyes strayed to Hawkes' bunk on the far wall, but she pulled them quickly back. 

"Jenny....," Cooper called out to her, but what ever he was going to say, lodged in his throat when he saw the stricken look on her face. 

"Please, don't make me go away?" She begged as she walked between the two bunks, and fell to her knees. Her arms open, reaching a hand for each man. The tears she had been holding in for hours falling fast and hard. "Please, don't make me be alone?" 

Both Marines slid to the floor and all three of them held on tightly. The men relieved because they had something to do. Jenny, finally giving vent to all the pent up emotion of the day. 

"It's okay, Jen," both men felt her stiffen when West inadvertently used McQueen's pet name for her. "It's okay, Jenny," he corrected himself. "You stay right here."   
  
"Right here," Hawkes echoed, as he and West held onto her and she held them together.   
  
The Jack, the King, and the Lady sat there holding on tightly to each other. Somehow, the three of them would make it through the night.   
................................ 

McQueen's ISSCV September 2, 2064 - 0025 hours 

McQueen was cold, but it was a good cold. A cold that let him drift away. Away from the pain in his lungs as he tried harder and harder to breath. Away from the numbness in his lower body from the epidural, that he knew was blocking pain. Away from the darkness in his soul when he thought of all that he had lost in the last 24 hours. He felt his breathing become slower and slower as the effort became too great. He was tired of fighting for air, it was so much easier to just...........let...................it............................stop.......................................! 

It was strange, he knew his eyes were closed, but he could see Corpsmen moving quickly, as they pushed the POW's to the back of the ISSCV and curtained off his bunk. The incessant beeping that had been keeping pace with his heart rate was erratic. The voices of the people around him were growing dimmer. 

He felt good, wonderful, in fact. What was he doing on this hospital shuttle and who was the pale, silver haired man who the Corpsmen were working on so frantically? McQueen watched as the Sargent at the patient's head threw down a laryngoscope in frustration and barked out some orders. *"Poor bastard,"* McQueen though. *"They're not going to be able to save him."* 

"Colonel," Wang was standing beside him, watching the Corpsmen as they quickly opened a tray that contained a number 11 blade, retractors, and a tracheotomy tube. "That's you, they're working on. You." 

"No," McQueen argued. Then he looked again. "Me? I'm dying? Does that mean you're dead?" 

"Yes," Paul watched the Colonel digest the information. "I died a few hours ago, but we saved the colonists." 

"What about the others?" McQueen looked around him afraid he would see Vansen and Damphousse. "Did they die, too?" 

"They aren't with me, yet," Paul answered cryptically. "You are the one whose dying." 

"Considering everything," McQueen shrugged. "Maybe it's not so bad. Maybe it's a....." 

"Bull shit, Colonel!" Wang was angry. He had never seen McQueen give up before. He hated to see it now. "You're always telling us 'it's a good day to die.' What exactly does that mean?" 

"I'm not sure," McQueen faltered. He knew that he could have answered that question at one time, but standing there watching as they performed an emergency tracheotomy on him, and forced oxygen into his lungs with a ambu bag, the answer was slipping away from him. 

"Well if you can't answer that," Wang pushed his advantage. "Tell me why isn't this a good day to live?" 

"Oh, come on Wang," McQueen pointed to the stretcher. One of the Corpsmen was bagging him as the other attempted to stop the flow of blood, that had begun to seep from his stump. While they worked, the older Corpsmen was giving worried looks to a strange rhythm pattern that would appear sporadically on the cardiac monitor. "Look at that, and you tell me if it's a good day to live." 

"Colonel," Wang tried the easy argument first. "You gave me the courage to go on living when I needed it. You also gave me the courage to die when it was my time. But, in those instances, it was a choice I made. First: to go on living after Kazbek and then Minerva. Second: to die yesterday. All three times it took courage, but those times they were my choices. The choice to live after making mistakes. And the choice to die fighting to keep the POW's from being killed. I knew I was helping to bring Kylen back to Nathan; to complete a job that the 58th started over a year ago. My choices, Sir, not someone else's. That made them the right choices. You gave me the ability to do that, now you stand there and let two Corpsmen make the choice for you?" 

"It's not that easy, Paul," McQueen couldn't take his eyes away from the body the Corpsmen were working on. It was hard to believe it was him. 

"You say the right choice is rarely the easy one," Paul shot back. "Besides, Jenny said you'd be back." Bringing out the heavy artillery, he continued, "why don't you believe her? More importantly, what will happen to her if you die here?" 

"Jen'll be fine." McQueen clenched his fists, not wanting to think about it. "She has Ross, I've seen to that. She has others to take care of her, as well." 

"Does she? Look for yourself," Wang pointed out the porthole. Instead of seeing the stars, the two spirit-men saw Jenny huddled against the wall in the bay that had been McQueen's. She couldn't stop throwing up as she gripped an emisis basin. Then she surged to her feet to driving off Joan Brill and Chico Voss, as they tried to help her. 

"What's wrong with her?" McQueen stepped closer to the window. "Why is she like that?" 

"She can feel you dying, Sir." Paul wondered why the Colonel couldn't see what was in front of his eyes. "She kept her promise to you and was the one to do your surgery, look what it's doing to her." 

"Why the hell aren't they helping her?" McQueen gasped as he watched Jen keep Joan and Chico at bay. 

"You said it yourself, just yesterday," Paul looked at him knowingly. "She doesn't lean on anyone. Though, that's not exactly true is it, Colonel? There is someone she has been known to lean on. Tell me who it is." 

The images of Jen faded and the stars returned on the other side of the porthole. McQueen closed his eyes, trying to deny what he had seen, and what he knew. "Me? I'm the one she's........." The older man shook his head. "But why me?" 

"That's something you're going to have to figure out yourself. You're running out of time, Colonel," Paul warned, then began to quote McQueen from that memorable talk, before the Battle Of The Belt. "'Courage. Honor. Dedication. Sacrifice. Those are the words they used...to get you here. But now..the only word that means a damn is life. The one certainty in war... is that in an hour, maybe two, you'll either still be alive...or you'll be dead. And one more thing...It's okay to be scared.'" 

McQueen looked Paul in the eyes, but found only deadly earnest looking back. "What, no dog act this time, Wang?" He questioned, a cynical half smile on his lips. 

"No Sir," Wang shook his head, both men remembering an overheard conversation from months ago. "So what's it to be Colonel, live or die?" 

"Live or die," McQueen muttered as he looked out the porthole again, but saw only stars. Something shifted in him, as he knew he had to go back. He stood straighter and met Paul's eyes with defiance as he stepped toward the Corpsmen who were working on him. "I choose to live! I choose to go on fighting! The hell with being scared!" 

"Sir?" Paul called to him. "Tell Vanessa that 'the face of heaven is so fine, that all the world is in love with night.'" 

"What?" McQueen faltered, it sounded like Shakespeare, but he couldn't place it. "That means they're alive?" 

"Tell her, she'll understand, so will Shane," Paul's voice was a whisper through the air vents as McQueen slipped back into himself. 

"We've got him back! Look at that monitor." The younger of the two Corpsmen shouted to his buddy. "I thought we'd lost him for sure." 

The senior Corpsman reached for the radio to talk to the pilot. "Sir, we're going to have to divert. The Colonel almost died. Are there any hospital ships closer than the Flo?" 

While they waited for a response, the older Corpsman pulled aside the ambu bag and watched the steady rise and fall of the Colonel's chest, "it looks as if he's breathing on his own. Lets hope he keeps it up!" 

"Sargent Hopkins," the pilot's voice could be heard by both Corpsmen. "I've just contacted the Clara Barton, she's on her way to meet us. Then we'll take the POW's on to the Nightingale, as planned, for transfer to Earth." 

"Sir, what kind of timeframe are we talking here?" 

"Can you guys keep him alive for 90 mikes?" The pilot asked. "There's nothing closer, and the situation is heating up back where the Saratoga is, so we can't turn back, not with a bunch of civilian on board." 

"Yes Sir, 90 mikes to hand off," Hopkins glanced at his friend. "We only need to keep him alive for 91 mikes, then he belongs to the Clara." 

"We never should have accepted him, without a doctor," the younger Corpman shook his head. "Who would have guessed? He appeared stable when we picked him up along with the colonists." 

"That's the way it is in a time of war," the older man advised the younger. "Always remember: you only have to keep them alive until one mike past hand-off. That's how you'll stay sane on these runs."   
........................................... 

The Saratoga 0100 Commodore Ross' Quarters, Sept. 2, 2064 

The knocking on his door finally woke up the Commodore. He had fallen asleep in his chair, too exhausted to move to his bedroom. 

"This had better be important," he growled as he opened his hatch. 

"Sir, I'm sorry to bother you at this hour, but this can't wait." The frightened face of Captain Maureen Fisher looked up at Ross. 

"What happened, Captain?" *"This is trouble,"* Ross thought. He had know the forensics expert for a number of years and had never seen her afraid. 

"Commodore, I wanted to get a look at the explosion site before.....well, while it was still fresh," she was picking her words carefully. 

"Maureen, say what you mean, it won't go any further," Ross smiled trying to put her at ease. 

"I wanted to look at it before the Spooks got back on board. What I found, is hard to believe," she shook her head. "Someone planted a time bomb, in there." 

"What!" Ross was caught by surprise. Like everyone else, he had thought the Chig Envoy had managed to smuggle an explosive aboard. 

"That's not the worst of it, Sir." Wearing work gloves, Fisher pulled a melted and bent computer casing out of a bag she had been carrying. "This is where the bomb was hidden. The worst is this: about a pound of unexploded composite; behind what appears to be a burned electronic trigger." She pointed to areas of the open casing. 

"I'm not following you, Captain." Ross trusted Fisher, she was good at her job, but what she was saying didn't make sense. "The bomb went off. Why didn't that explode?" 

"That's what I asked myself when I found it. See the bits of burned wiring here?" She moved her gloved fingers over small wires. "I think those were the electronic trigger to the smaller bomb, that should have triggered the main explosive chamber." Fisher pointed to the large block of unexploded composite. "In my opinion, Sir, the bomb that went off a few hours ago, was a trigger incendiary, not the main bomb." 

"If the trigger went off, why didn't the rest of the bomb go?" Ross was puzzled. 

"I've spent the last hour going over tapes from the five minutes before the explosion." She turned on a recording device and guided Ross through her theory. "Listen to this. There is the argument between Wayne and the Chig; that's the glass breaking, when the Chig moved into the main room. When he does that, he changed the air content. Ammonia mixed with air already present. I think that's what saved our lives." 

"But I thought ammonia was used in some explosives?" 

"It was, up until about 25 years ago. But what we're dealing with is ammonia gas," Fisher had moved into lecture mode. "If the gas content of that room had been a mixture of between 16-25% ammonia/air, we'd all be nothing but molecules bouncing off the stars. My theory is that the area around the bomb, which was located close to the room where the Chig Envoy had been staying, had a much higher ammonia content than the outer edges of the main room. If you examine the site carefully, you'll notice that the area where I found this computer, has almost no burn or charring, but as you move outward from that area, the damage increases. Gasses, by nature mix, but it would have taken some time for the ammonia to mix evenly with the air." 

"Can you give me a short version, in English, Captain Fisher?" Ross' head was swimming with gas laws and laws of partial pressures, that he was trying to remember from college chemistry. 

"Bottom line, Sir?" Fisher turned to Ross. "Someone tried to blow up the Saratoga. There is enough composite in this pack, to take out two carriers our size. The only reason we're alive to talk about it is because that Chig Envoy changed the air content of the room, which prevented complete combustion of the trigger bomb." 

"You're telling me that the bomb that killed all those men," Ross was shocked. "That bomb, was just a small bomb compared to what was coming?" 

"Yes, Sir," Fisher took a deep breath. She was relieved that Ross was still listening to her. "Combustion needs oxygen in order to take place. I believe that at the time the trigger went off, there was very little oxygen around this computer casing. That's what kept the bomb from going critical."   
  
"Have you told anyone else about this theory of yours?" Ross had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

"No, Sir," Fisher shrugged. "There is no one else I trust with this information." 

"Thank you," Ross wondered if she realized she had just put herself on a hit list, if her theory was correct. "Is there any danger from that pound of composite?" 

"No, that's one of the nice things about composite. It requires a high energy of activation to be triggered," she grinned. "Sorry sir, it takes another explosion to set it off, one of a greater magnitude than the one we experienced a few hours ago." 

"Did anyone see you poking around the explosion site?" 

"I was discrete, Sir. I didn't see or hear anyone else, but on a ship this size, who knows." She was a bit worried, but tried not to show it. 

"I'll keep this locked away here," Ross moved to his wall safe. "The spooks are delayed. Communications are down with the Nebraska, since they went to answer a distress call from the Oklahoma in sector 12. Is there any way we can simulate this?" He pointed to the ruined computer casing. "So we can do an independent investigation." 

"I think that can be arranged," Fisher smiled at Ross. "You have a devious mind, Sir." 

"That's why I'm the Commodore," he smiled back. "You should have a day or so. Will that give you enough time?" 

"Yes, I think it will." 

"Good," Ross frowned as his communications console rang. "Watch your six Captain, and if things look the least bit strange, come to me." 

"Yes, Sir," Cpt. Fisher felt relieved that she had passed the burden of her find on to Ross. She didn't envy the man his job. 

"Commodore Ross, here," he answered his message. 

"Sir, I've got a call coming in from the Clara Barton. They say it's urgent." 

"Put it through, Sargent," Ross sighed. He was beginning to wonder if the day would ever end. His head still throbbed and his cold was as bad as it had been in the morning.   
........................................... 

The Wildcards' Quarters 0230 hours, September 2, 2064 

Jenny was awakened by her wrist unit beeping. She had been asleep in her old bunk in the Wildcards' quarters. Her last memories were of sitting on the deck with Nathan and Cooper as she cried. The three of them holding on to each other. She must have fallen asleep and the Marines had put her to bed. 

She knew she had been dreaming about Ty. If she didn't know better, she would swear she could smell him. Was this going to be a repeat of Kordis? She didn't think she could take that, again. Maybe he'd slept in this bunk after she had left the night before landing on Demios. *"Yes,"* she decided. *"That was the answer."* At least the only answer her sanity would accept. 

In the light of the corridor, she saw that it wasn't Sickbay that was calling her, but Commodore Ross. Running her fingers through her hair, she decided to stop by her quarters and pick up the letter Ty had wanted her to give to Ross. It was only slightly out of her way. The letter was important to McQueen so it was important to her. She hoped that Ross wasn't going to be upset by what ever he had written.   
..................... 

"Commodore?" Jenny knocked on his hatch. 

"Come on in Jenny," Ross looked as if he had aged ten years in the last hours. 

"Glen, what can I do for you?" Jenny had told herself all the way over here that it was a professional call, that there couldn't be anymore bad news. 

"You've got a call from Dr. Stan Turek on the Clara Barton." Ross indicated for her to take his desk chair and showed her how to operate the radio. "It's about McQueen." 

"Stan," Jenny spoke into the radio. "What's going on there?" 

"I've got this wounded panther you were sending to Earth." Turek's voice could be heard over the radio. "They ran into trouble on the transport, and we were the closest hospital ship, so we caught him." 

"What kind of trouble, Stan?" Jenny's voice shook. 

"To hear the Corpsmen tell it, he was almost dead, when all of the sudden he was back and fighting for his life." There was admiration in Turek's voice. "They had to trach him, but it's only temporary, until the chemical burns on his mucous membranes heal. Breathing those ammonia fumes caught up with him. It's mostly throat damage, so that we don't have to worry about him going into full blown ARDS." 

"Oh God," Jenny gasp. "I shouldn't have let him go so soon after surgery." She had balanced her worry for his respiratory track, with her concern about getting him to more sophisticated orthopedic care, while there were still options regarding a prosthesis. 

"If anyone is going to make it, it's this guy. He woke up fighting," Stan continued. "Mike Kelly has just been transferred out here. He's going to look at the Colonel's leg in the morning. From your notes in McQueen's chart I see you were hoping for a transplant or cybernetic prosthesis. Luck is with on that one, because Mike knows more about both of those than anyone else I can think of." 

"Will you let me know what he has to say?" Jenny felt the tears begin again. 

"Be glad to," Stan cleared his throat before going on. "One other thing Jenny. He was hardly strong enough to hold a pen, but the Colonel has a message for you and Commodore Ross. He was insistent that I get it to you tonight. The guy's a hand full. Short of drugging him to the point of unconsciousness, it was easier to give him something to write with and promise I'd call you." 

"A hypospray of 5 mg. of Sleepez, will take him under in about thirty seconds." Jen's voice cracked as she remembered doing just that. 

"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind," Turek chuckled. "It sounds as if he has a history of being a bad patient." 

"Ross is standing by, Stan," Jenny opened the radio so the Commodore could hear what was being said. 

"McQueen says to tell you both that, 'they're alive.' He said 'have faith and keep searching, they're alive.'" Turek didn't know what the message was about, but the Colonel had refused to take 'no' for an answer. "And Jenny I'm to tell you, 'he'll bring it back.'" 

"Dr. Turek," Ross had taken over the radio, when Jenny put her head on his desk, unable to take anymore. "Thanks for letting us know what happened. Dr. Kirkwood will call you in the morning." 

"Sure thing, Commodore," Turek could hear the sound of soft weeping in the background and it unnerved him. He had known Jenny for ten years and had never seen her cry. "Tell Jenny we'll take care of things on this end. Turek, out." 

"Jenny," Ross stooped beside her chair and pulled her head onto his shoulder, while awkwardly patting her hair. "Come here, you cry all you want, it's been a hell of a day." 

"I'm all right," she pulled away from him and sat, looking down into his face. "Really I am. You're right, it's been a tough day. Was Ty talking about Shane and Vanessa?" 

"You can't put any faith in that." Ross wanted to believe it, but couldn't make himself. "McQueen must have been rambling." 

"You're wrong, Glen," she argued. "Ty wouldn't say it if he didn't believe it. The night before we picked them up on Demios, he was worried sick about their fate, because he was uncertain. It's not in his nature to believe like that, unless he knows something we don't." 

"Jenny, you're a doctor." Ross hated to have to convince her that she was wrong, but he knew that for her own good, he had to make her understand that there was very little chance the women had survived. "You know the shape McQueen was in when he left here. Tell me how he could have learned something that we haven't?" 

"Glen, I don't know." She sighed, as she leaned back in his chair, feeling equal parts defeat and conviction. "But he used the word 'faith', he said, 'have faith, they're alive.' He wouldn't use those words unless he knew something." 

"I think that he believes it." Ross stood and poured himself a drink, Jen shook her head, 'no,' when he offered one to her. "That doesn't mean it's so. You need to prepare yourself for that, we all do." 

"Anything from the SAR teams?" Jenny whispered. 

"Nothing as yet, 2063 Yankee rocks on it's axis, at a rate of twice during it's 15 hour rotation. That causes shifting magnetic fields that play hell with our communications." Ross wasn't happy with the situation. "We could drop a Com satellite, but that would be like leaving a sign for the Chigs that we've got a craft down." 

"This keeps getting worse and worse," Jenny sighed as she rubbed her eyes. 

"Yes, it does." Ross hated to add to what had happened tonight, but he knew in fairness he had to tell her what Maureen Fisher had found. "There's something else I need to talk to you about." 

"What more could have happened?" Jenny looked at Ross and backed away from him. 

"Sit down, this is going to take few minutes." He led her to the couch and sat across from her. As he explained what Cpt. Fisher had found, he watched her grow pale and silent. 

"Time bomb, you say?" Jenny took a deep breath and got up to look out the observation window in Ross' office. "Was the intended target the peace talks, or was it something more personal?" 

"I have no way of knowing at this time," Ross knew she was referring to herself. "Savage has been notified of all that's taken place in the last 24 hours." 

"Glen, months ago, you told me the people around me were safe," she was too tired to keep her temper under control. "Was that a lie to keep me from asking questions, or did you really believe that they wouldn't try anything like this?" 

"We thought the odds were so small, that it wasn't anything to worry you about," Ross admitted. "Keep in mind that we have no proof that the bomb had anything to do with you." 

"Who is 'we'?" The Doctor glared at Ross, white-faced and furious. Her fists clenched at her side. 

"McQueen and I," Ross moved toward the woman and placed a hand on her shoulder. 

"Well he certainly paid the full price for that didn't he?" Jenny snapped out at Ross. "He believed in me and look what it cost him! People he cares about are dead or dying. He may die himself. And if he does live, his life will never be the same again. My God, Glen, it cost him his leg! He's a Marine! The Corps is his life. You two had no right to make that decision for me, because now I have to live with the consequences." 

"Take it easy, Jenny," Ross gripped her shoulders and gave her a light shake. 

"I will not take it easy!" She shouted at the Commodore. "I made a promise and I broke it." She was pointing toward the stars to her right as she exploded at Ross. "I should have known the Universe would exact it's full price. Gloria warned me, but I was so glad to have them back from Demios, that I didn't remember all that she said to me." 

"What the hell are you talking about?" Ross pulled her close to stop her raving. 

"Between my broken promise and what you and Ty were keeping from me, disaster was a sure thing," she bit her lower lip to keep from crying again. "Please Glen, tell me this day has been a nightmare and I'll wake up soon?" 

"I wish I could," Ross held her close and wanted with all his heart to keep her like that, but he knew she wasn't his and never could be. "I wish I could." 

"I'm all right, Glen." Jenny stepped away from him and turned her back, not wanting him to see the pain and guilt she was feeling. "Really I am, I just need to get some sleep." 

"What I told you about the bomb," Ross placed a hand on her shoulder from behind. "That isn't to leave this room." 

"Yes, Sir," Jen took a deep breath as she turned back to him. "I nearly forgot, this is for you," she pulled the letter from McQueen out of her pocket and handed it to Ross. "The last thing he asked me to do before he was shipped out, was to give you this." 

Ross took the rumpled envelope from her shaking fingers. His name was written in McQueen's familiar handwriting. "Where did you get this?" 

"He gave it to me months ago," Jen smiled as she remembered a night when she had slept held tightly against Ty. "The night before they left for Kazbek. I was to give it to you if he didn't come back." 

"What's in it?" Ross held the envelope with unsteady fingers. 

"I've never read it," Jen smiled for the first time that night. "It's addressed to you." She reached for his hand and curled it around the letter. "You're a good friend to him. He spoke fondly of you as far back as when he was in detox, four years ago." 

"Ty, did?" 

"Yes," Jen searched for the right words. "He had spoken of his friend Glen, but the thing that sticks out in my mind the most is when I began calling him Ty." She smiled, remembering a late afternoon on a sailboat. "He said that the only other person who called him that was Glen. Later he said that when people called him TC, it made him feel incomplete." 

"He said that?" Ross had never realized how important a thing like a name could be. "I never knew." 

"Umhmm," she shook her head in the affirmative. "I think it meant a great deal to him. You helped give him an identity as a man." 

"Thank you for telling me that," Ross felt at peace for the first time that night. He knew the feeling wouldn't last long, but he needed it for every second it was there. "Now you get to bed, it's almost morning and I doubt today will be any easier than the last 24 hours has been." 

After the doctor left, Ross sat at his desk staring at the envelope. Part of him wanted to tear open the paper and read the words his friend had sent to him. Another part of him believed that as long as the letter stayed unopened, McQueen would stay alive. It was a silly superstition for a Commodore of a space carrier to have, but it kept him from opening it. 

Carefully placing the letter on his desk, with the picture of his sister and children, he thought, *"you guys take care of him for me?" It didn't make any sense, but it was how he felt. McQueen was family, so the Commodore was putting all he had of the man with the one part of his children he could touch at a moment's notice.   
..................................... 

The Clara Barton, September 2, 2064, 0700 hours 

McQueen lay there, his consciousness suspended in that moment between awake and asleep. He could hear noises that weren't familiar to him. His body didn't feel like his own. As he fought to open his eyes, a hatch banged and the events of the last 24 hours came rushing back. 

"Jen," his lips formed her name, but no sound came out. He hadn't learned the breath control necessary for talking with a trach tube in place. He hoped that it wouldn't be there long enough for him to have to. 

"Easy does it Colonel McQueen," Sgt. John Stark finished recording his patient's vital signs, then moved closer to the bed to talk to him. "You and your team saved my life, when you pulled us off of Kordis, Sir. Anything I can do for you, let me know." 

McQueen shook his head as he recognized the Corpsman who had been trapped with Jen. He had many questions, but was too tired to write them out. For the moment, they would have to wait. 

Two men came into his room. He thought he recognized one as the man who had transmitted his message, the night before, but he wasn't sure. 

"Colonel, I'm Dr. Turek, I don't know if you remember me from last night, but we talked." Stan motioned for Stark to stay, and continue his charting. "This is Dr. Kelly, his speciality is transplant and cyber orthopedics. Do you remember what happened to you?" 

McQueen nodded his head, as images flew through his mind. He knew he had been at the peace talks. He knew he had lost part of his right leg. Then there was Jen in Sickbay? His fingers rubbed against his chest, where his dog tags were resting, under his gown. She had given him her bracelet? That hadn't been a dream. After that it got hazy, as if he was watching, as well as participating. He kept trying to remember a conversation with Paul, but his mind didn't want to accept it. Somehow he knew Paul was dead, so he couldn't have talked to him. 

"Colonel McQueen," Mike Kelly sat in a chair next to the patient's bed, bringing Ty's attention back to the present. "Dr. Kirkwood's notes suggest the use of a new kind of prosthesis. It would be the ideal, but involves the use of stem cell therapy and transplanted muscle and bone. The stem cell therapy can be hard on the body and in many cases the patient rejects the transplants. But when it works, the prosthesis becomes a living part of your body. It would be as if you had never lost a limb. You are young and healthy so the odds are good that this will work for you, but in case it doesn't I want to explain to you what is involved with the computerized version." Kelly waited a beat, while he watched McQueen absorb what had been said. 

"I understand you are a veteran of the AI war? Since that's the case, it's important for you to understand that the second option isn't an AI prosthesis, as people like to call it. In actuality, the AI's grew out of the combined sciences of Cyber-medicine, not the other way around," Dr. Kelly had caught McQueen's attention. 

"In the late 1980's doctors began experimenting with ways to give para and quadriplegics natural movement. By 2015, the research had progressed to the replacement of limbs." Kelly began drawing a diagrams of both options for McQueen. "Unfortunately, somewhere along the line, ethics were tossed out the window and Aerotech decided to try and build people. The rest is history," he muttered. 

McQueen interrupted Kelly's lecture by reaching unsteady hands for the doctor's pen and paper. He scribbled, "do it," then let the pen drop from hands made tired from that small job. 

Sometime during the night before, the Colonel had decided he would take a leg from the devil himself, if it helped him get back to the Saratoga. He had never been vain about his body. *"Hell, what was one more scar,"* he had thought. Besides the prosthesis was only a means to an end. He could picture Jen sitting beside his bed quoting from The Book Of Five Rings. 'When your life is on the line, you want to make use of all your tools.' He was sure she would prod him along by saying. *"Come on Ty, after all, whatever gets the job done!"* 

"All right," Kelly was caught by surprise. Very often it took careful explaining to convince soldiers who had fought against the AI's to let him use one of the more advanced types of prosthesis. If the newer transplants didn't work. He could understand why they were repelled by the idea of possible AI technology. Many of them refused to even listen. 

"We'll schedule your surgery for 0700 tomorrow. I realize it's fast, Colonel, but the sooner we do the procedure, the better the chance of a positive outcome. Dr. Kirkwood was careful when she did the original repair. It was obvious she had this kind of prosthesis in mind from the start. You were lucky to have her there to do the surgery." 

McQueen closed his eyes, nodding his head in agreement, as his hand moved to grip his dog tags through the hospital gown. He was able to feel the bracelet Jen had attached there the night before and it gave him comfort.   
......................................... 

Planet 2063 Yankee, 0700 hours September 2, 2064 

The little planet was the third from it's yellow sun. Both the sun and the planets caught in it's orbit were small by comparison to many of it's much larger cousins throughout the universe. Though the planet was going on 2 billion years old, it didn't support any humanoid life forms as yet. It was lush and green, with a high oxygen content in it's atmosphere. Due to it's proximity to it's sun, and the odd shifting along it's axis, the temperature between poles and equator was a constant 33 degrees C. to 36 degrees C. all year long. 

The Chigs had checked it out years ago for possible colonization, but found the atmosphere not only unbreathable, but between the constant rain and the high oxygen content of the air, it corroded their survival suits. Added to that were poor communications due to the flux in magnetic fields, making the few minerals found, uneconomical to mine. 

As one moved further from the equator, an odd phenomena occurred. In the fifteen hours it took to complete a turn on it's axis, 2063 Yankee had two nights. A true night, when the face of the planet was turned away from the sun and a false night, when only partial light was present, as the planet rocked away from the sun, then back again. The poles getting the longer false nights, the equator none. 

In a mountainous area, of the largest continent, mid-way between equator and the north pole, a little cockpit was covered with it's landing 'chute. It had come to rest in the deep water of a huge lake or inland sea. Between the water and the 'chute' the cockpit had been cushioned enough to keep from breaking up on impact. During the night, it had drifted to the southern shore of the lake. 

"Ohhh..." Captain Shane Vansen's eyes fluttered open as she tried to make sense of the strange rocking sensation. If she didn't know better she would swear she was in a boat. "No!" She gasped as she remembered the last few hours. *"No quick moves,"* she thought. *"my head and stomach can't take it."* 

"'Phousse, Vanessa...," she gently shook the shoulder of the unconscious woman beside her. "You gotta wake up!" 

"Paul," Damphousse murmured, as she forced her eyes open. Her body hurt everywhere. The last thing she remembered was Paul telling her everything was going to be all right, if she just hung on a bit longer. "Shane, what happened?" She looked out the front of the cockpit and couldn't make sense of what she saw. 

"The pit got separated from the cargo bay of the ISSCV," Shane tested her own memory to see if she was on track. 

"What about the POWs, did they make it?" Vanessa had been knocked unconscious when they had taken the hit that disabled them. "Did Nathan get Kylen back?" 

"I don't know, but I think so," Shane began undoing her safety harness. "I have to believe so, or this was all for nothing. We better see where we are and get this cockpit hidden, or we may end up being POWs ourselves. If the readings on this thing are still working, we've got a high oxygen, nitrogen content, and traces of other gasses, in other words, breathable. I'm going to pop the top and see where we are." 

"Ohhh, Shane," Vanessa was struck by dizziness as she moved to unstrap her safety harness to give Shane a hand with the emergency hand crank. "I'm really dizzy and I think I may have broken my wrist." 

"You sit still." Shane was a bit dizzy herself, but she was determined to get out of the cockpit before their oxygen ran out. "You knocked your head pretty hard when we were hit last night." 

Vansen finally worked open the emergency hatch and stood on her seat to take a look around. Part of the chute had flopped over the view screen, the rest was dragging in the water, where it had tangled on something. Pushing it aside, Shane saw it had anchored them to a large log that was sticking up about ten feet from the shore of a huge lake or ocean. 

"Damn, we were lucky," Shane looked down at her friend. "We must have come down in the water. Last night, I kept dreaming I was on Jenny's boat," she laughed. "I guess we really were floating." 

"Shane," Vanessa was trying to get her eyes to track properly as she concentrated on a section of the command console. "We've got some fused circuits boards in the homing beacon." 

"If we're going to be found, we gotta get that thing fixed," the Captain stood in the sunshine of a lovely green world and knew that she would give almost anything to be back in the cold dark of space. "Do you think you can do it?" 

"Not while this pit is rocking," Vanessa grabbed her head to steady herself. "If I can get on dry land, I think I can do it, but it may take some time, and I'll need your help." 

"I'll get that section out of there, you lean back and relax," Shane began pulling out the radio and homing beacon. "Then we'll see about getting out of here."   
.........................................   
  
The Saratoga, September 2, 2064- 0935 hours 

Jenny knocked hard on Commodore Ross' door. She could hardly contain her anger at the latest rumor she had heard. 

"Come in, Jenny," Ross opened the door for her. He could tell by the look on her face that she had heard the news. She had just missed the visit by West, Hawkes and Connelly. Too bad they all hadn't come at once, then he wouldn't have to be going through this argument twice in the same day. 

"I've heard that you're calling in the SAR teams for Vansen and Damphousse, is that true?" She demanded, "I realize I'm a bit out of line here Commodore, but the rumors are everywhere." 

"They're more than rumors, I'm afraid," Ross hated breaking the news to her, but there was a war on and he had orders. "The Saratoga is needed elsewhere. We'll be weighing anchor by 1100 hours." 

"If you're recalling the SAR's that are out," Jenny argued. "Then send one. Hawkes, West and me. They're alive. McQueen said so. We have to find them." 

"Are you out of your mind!" Ross turned on her, "even if I would let West and Hawkes go, that's not a mission for you." 

"I beg to differ with the Commodore," Jenny moved in close to argue with him. "I'm a doctor, when we find them, they'll need me." 

"That could be trading your lives in an attempt to find bodies." Ross had to believe that they were dead, or he wouldn't have been able to move the Saratoga. "I refuse to do that!" 

"You wouldn't be doing it, we would be. And we're not going to die, any of us." Jenny grabbed his hand and held it tightly. "Please, Glen I have to do this." 

Ross looked carefully at Jenny. For the first time he realized there was a desperation behind her words. "Why? What aren't you telling me?" 

"I...a..I..don't know what you mean," Jenny chewed on her bottom lip. 

"I think you do," Ross pushed harder. "I know you care about Vansen and Damphousse. We all do, but this goes deeper for you, much deeper!" 

"We, you and I, have to do this for McQueen," she turned and walked the few feet to the porthole. "We owe it to him. You owe it to him!" 

"You're a dirty fighter, Doctor," her words had stung. If he hadn't been ill and asked McQueen to take his place at the peace talks, Ross knew he would be the one on the Clara Barton. "I didn't expect it of you. Tell me how letting the three of you get killed would be paying a debt to Ty?" 

"I won't let them die. So much of this is already my fault," she raged at him. "Don't you understand, they have to live, all of them!" 

"Wang is already dead," Ross argued. "And the odds that Vansen and Damphousse are alive are slim." 

"I'll take those odds any day!" Jenny raised her chin, refusing to believe that the others hadn't made it. 

"There's more to this than you're telling me," Ross squinted at the woman in front of him. "What's going on here?"   
  
"You want the truth?" Jenny wrapped her arms around herself to keep from shivering. "My God, it can't do anymore damage than it's already done! Ty loves them, we have to get them back for him." 

"More! You promised me the truth," Glen pushed. 

"All right, you want it all?" Jenny stood very straight, refusing to be embarrassed. "I'm in love with him. I think I've loved him for a long time, but didn't realize it until the morning he left for Kazbek." 

*"Well that explains it,"* Ross thought. *"It's nice to know it wasn't my lack of charm, but McQueen's considerable charm, that had her so entranced."* 

"Somehow, I think I assumed that all he needed to do was understand what love was about, and he'd love me back." Jen had needed to say these things for so long, it was a relief to be able to talk to someone about it. "It didn't work that way. It didn't take me long to realize he had learned to love, but he loved the Wildcards, not me. I can't take that away from him! We can't take that away from him." 

Reaching for Jen's left wrist, the Commodore realized what had been out of place when he looked at her. "Where's your bracelet, Jenny?" He whispered as he felt a pang of regret that he hadn't read the letter from McQueen. *"No,"* he thought. *"This is my decision, I can't let McQueen influence it in anyway."* 

"Ty has it," Jenny took a deep breath. "It gave me strength when I was on Kordis. I hope it will do the same for him, now. It brought me luck. It'll do that for him and he's going to need all the luck he can get." 

"He's the one who gave it to you, isn't he?" Ross was remembering remnants of a drunken conversation with McQueen He didn't need to see Jenny nod yes, to know the answer. "He's the Major from your stories!" 

"So what if he is?" She branzened it out, "I was just telling stories about the Angry Angels to help pass the time while we were waiting for rescue!" 

"It may have started out that way, but no, Jenny that's not all it was and you know it," Ross challenged. 

"I don't think he knows about the stories and if he does, he hasn't read anything into them," the Doctor sighed. "Please don't tell him otherwise. If he knew how I really felt, it would cost me his friendship." 

"Jen," Ross saw her flinch and he realized that McQueen was the only one who called her that. "Jenny, I think the next time you see him, you need to sit down and have a long talk with him." 

"As I said, we're friends but nothing more," she sighed. "He's made his intentions very clear to me." She flushed as she remembered how he had pulled away from her that night. "I've never understood how intelligent men can prefer their women to be a bit light in the brains and heavier in the curves. Lets face it Glen, that just isn't me. Besides, you've seen that picture on his desk. No matter how much I want to change it, I can't. There may not have been real love in his marriage before, but he's learned to love, now. If he wants, he can go back and change his past." 

"You know you can't change the past, though it sounds as if you've given this plenty of thought. I still think you may be wrong," Ross spoke quietly, not wanting to get her hopes up, but wanting so much more for both his friends. "Now tell me, what makes you think all that has happened in the last 24 hours is your fault." 

"I made a deal," Jen sighed. "That morning that I realized that I loved him. I made a deal with the Universe. If it would keep them safe, I'd never let him know how I felt. The night before we picked up the 58th from Demios, I let him kiss me." She shook her head at her own stupidity. 

"Wait a second," Ross cut in. "McQueen kissed you?" He watched as she flushed and knew without a doubt it was more than a friendly peck on the cheek. "He isn't one to do that lightly." 

"Please Glen, get real. He's a man, a Marine and I'm not blind. I saw him in action when I was with the Angels. Ty may have been more discrete than most, but he liked the ladies and they liked him." 

"You've got him wrong," Ross defended his friend. "Sure he did a lot of looking, back then. We all did. But even then he was never much of a womanizer, though they were attracted to him. By the way, 'lady' is not the correct term for them." The Commodore looked the Doctor over closely. He had always assumed that Amy had been the reason McQueen had gone a bit sour on women. Maybe what Ross had interpreted as hurt had been waiting. He would have to think about it. Yes, this was getting more interesting by the minute. 

"Men, you all stick together, but it doesn't matter. I was there that night, I know. He realized his error quickly enough," she turned her back, it hurt to bring all this out into the open. Ross had become a friend to her in the months she had been on the Saratoga, but he was Ty's friend first. She wanted to be careful what she said. 

"Jenny, I think you're reading this incorrectly," Ross knew that she wasn't the kind of woman to be taken lightly and he was sure McQueen did too. 

"Please, this isn't something I want to talk about anymore. Just know that it happened and it shouldn't have. Now there are consequences to pay. I thought I was safe. That the kiss had been overlooked, when we got the 'Cards back. Then all hell broke lose yesterday. Now it's time to pay the piper, and the price is dearer than I ever imagined. I have to get them back for him!" Jenny stepped very close to Ross and gripped his arms. 

"That doesn't make much sense," he shook his head. "You're a woman of science. Do you really believe that this deal of your's either helped or hurt them, at anytime?" 

"I don't know Glen," she closed her eyes for a moment to get her balance. "All I know is that this is something I have to do for Ty. He's lost so much that he's cared about in his life. Please, please let me do this!" 

Ross watched her as she fought the emotions that were passing over her face; fear, pain, desperation and love. What she was asking didn't make any sense, but little did anymore. There was so much hatred in the world, in the past years, who was he to argue with anyone who wanted to do something for love. 

"All right," Ross saw the relief that filled her eyes. "On one condition. Hawkes and West have to give their okay on this. They've already been in here, by the way, with Lt. Mitch Connelly. If this is a go, there will be four of you. I can keep the Saratoga here for another twenty-four hours and that's all. If you don't find them in that time, you'll have to come back. Deal?" He held out his hand. 

Jenny stared at his hand, as she heard McQueen's voice echoing in her head, *"pax?"* She forced herself to take Ross' hand and shake, though she had no idea what she had just agreed to.   
.......................................... 

Saratoga Landing Bay, September 2, 1110 hours 

Jenny walked up to the three Marines that were waiting for her. They were all dressed in battle gear. A grim smile crossed her face, as she realized what it had taken to get her to admit that 'once an Angry Angel, always an Angry Angel,' included her as well. 

"Dr. Kirkwood," Ross came down from the observation deck. "May I have a word with you?" 

"Yes, Commodore," Jenny moved to meet him. 

"I've got something for you," he held out a k-bar in an Angel black scabbard, turning it over so they could both see 'McQ' inscribed in silver on the back. 

"I can't take that," Jen backed away. She had recognized the knife before Ross had shown her the initials. 

"Consider it a trade." Ross smiled as he attached the scabbard to her vest. "He always said this k-bar brought him luck. Besides, I've never seen an Angry Angel go into a hot spot without one." 

"How did you know?" He had caught Jenny by surprise. 

"I figured that if anything would bring you out of the closet, this would," Ross stood back and looked at her. 

"I tried to convince them for the better part of a year, but even Gloria Collins never understood that if I could handle a scalpel, I could handle one of these things," she nodded as she touched the cool black leather of the scabbard, when she peeled her vest aside revealing her hastily sewn on Angry Angel's insignia and the call sign Angel-Doc written in laundry marker above her name patch. 

"I expect you to bring that back," the Commodore warned. "He'll have my head if anything happens to it." 

"Thank you, Glen," she smiled. "Not just for that, but for everything." 

"Jenny, I mean it," he looked her in the eyes. "I expect you to come back." He had a terrible feeling that she didn't care if she returned or not, as long as they were able to find the missing women. "And remember 24 hours is the deadline!"   
....................................... 

The Clara Barton, September 2, 2064- 1530 hours 

"Colonel, may I come in," Corpsman Stark stuck his head around the hatch to McQueen's room and entered when he saw the man nod in agreement. "These are for you," he placed two books on the stand next to the Colonel. 

"Dr. Turek talked to the Lady-Doc this morning about 1030 hours," Stark saw the slight movement of McQueen's head and knew he was listening to him. "She asked him to get those for you. She also, had a message. She said to tell you, 'we'll find them.'" 

"Jen," McQueen's lips formed her name, as his eyes closed. They were keeping him drugged for pain control, since pulling the epidural in the morning. Dr. Kelly had told him they needed to be able to test his nerves' responses to stimuli during surgery, so the regional pain block had been removed. As more and more feeling was returning, he was needing stronger drugs to keep the pain manageable. 

He had a sneaking suspicion that they also opted to keep him drugged due to the hard time he had given them when he had first arrived. Last night he had been in no mood to be trifled with. His weakened condition only added to his frustration. He had come very close to an old fashion temper tantrum, but at the last moment, realized, it was impossible to do that with the damn trach tube preventing speech. He had settled for being as noncooperative as possible. In the end, he had gotten his own way. Dr. Turek had contacted Jen and Ross and it had the added advantage of keeping most of the staff from wanting to have much to do with him. 

The Commodore and the Doctor would take care of things until he got back. Though he didn't envy Glen having to keep Jen in line. He could picture her driving the man crazy as she pushed him to have more SAR teams looking for his girls. She would make sure he found them. 

"Sir," Stark rested his hand on McQueen's shoulder, for a moment, to bring him back to the present. "I hope you don't mind, but I've requested to be your Corpsman. I know with your rank, you rate at least a Lieutenant Commander, maybe even a full Commander, but Sir, I'll do my best for you." He had seen the Lady-Doc's bracelet attached to the Colonel's dog tags. This man was important to the Lady or she never would have given it to him. Therefore, he was important to Stark. "We have a bond, Sir," was as close as Stark would go to mentioning the bracelet, or Kirkwood, unless the Colonel brought it up. 

McQueen nodded his head, acknowledging both the Corpsman's request and the bond. He wanted to feel the gold rope against his fingers, but wouldn't give in to it as long as someone else was in the room, even Stark. He had to be content with holding it against his chest. 

Jen was still taking care of him, after all this time, and all this distance. It took him a moment to realize that he didn't mind it anymore. He only wished she would let him take care of her. What the hell was he thinking! He didn't want the responsibility of another person, especially now. 

"Colonel McQueen," Stark stepped close to the bed. "I'm off duty for now, but I'll check on you this evening, and will be back on duty tomorrow before they take you to surgery. Is there anything I can get you before I go?" 

McQueen pointed toward the books the Sargent had brought in with him. He was too weak to read, let alone hold a book, but he was interested in knowing what Jen had picked out for him. He had always thought a person's bookshelf told a lot about them. 

Looking over at the books Stark held in his hand, he smiled and shook his head. The woman had his number, she had chosen, Te-Tao Ching and The Book Of Five Rings. 

After he heard Stark quietly put the book down, and leave the room, McQueen reached beneath his hospital gown and pulled out his dog tags. His fingers feeling in the dark for the gold chain that hung there. Fisting his hand around it, he took a deep breath and feel asleep. Finally understanding why Jen wore it all the time. It brought him peace. He had to get well and get it back to her, she must be missing it.   
..................................... 

ISSCV heading for Planet 2063 Yankee September 2, 2064, 1545 hours 

Nathan West piloted the small troop carrier through the atmosphere of Planet 2063Y. The craft bucked as Nathan fought with the controls. He shook his head trying not to think what it must have been like coming down in a severed cockpit. 

"Look alive back there," Nathan called out to Hawkes who was manning the waist gun. 

"We're alive and kicking," Hawkes responded as he checked the sights of his weapon for the fourth time in an hour. 

"Connelly," West called back to the man at the radio. "Anything on the signal tracker?" 

"Zilch, so far," Mitch Connelly called back. He was an attorney from Ann Arbor, Michigan, who had been flying since he was twelve. His sister had been a Vesta Colonist. When news of the attack had reached Earth, he had joined the Marine Air Calvary. 

"Jenny, you all right back there?" Nathan was worried about the woman. She had been strangely silent during the trip. He would give a lot to know how she had convinced the Commodore to let them go on this mission. Even more to know how she had convinced him to allow her to go along. Sure, Ross had left the final decision up to them, but how could they deny her, when she had been the one who had been able to make it all happen? 

"Just checking to make sure all the medical gear is strapped in nice and tight," Jen had been trapped on one planet without adequate supplies, it wasn't going to happen again. 

"I'm going in for a closer look, so everyone keep their eyes open." Nathan warned. "Jenny, back up Mitch, will ya'?" 

"Sure thing," she was glad for something to do, the trip out had seemed to take forever. They had to find Vanessa and Shane. They just had to. 

The determined people in the ISSCV began doing a low altitude search pattern over the planet. Starting with the equator, they circled 2063Y, moving further and further south. When that resulted in nothing, they went back to the equator and began to search north. 

"We've got to turn something up soon. We've been searching for fifteen hours," Jenny looked at her watch, refusing to admit defeat. "Can we go in any lower, Nathan?" 

"Not safely," the pilot shook his head. "An extended search like this is going to attract attention sooner or later. If we go in much below the 100 mile mark, we'll be seen by anything down there." 

"Nathan," Connelly called. "I think I've got something, it's faint and it just started transmitting after we flew over." He quickly fed the coordinates to the pilot's computer. 

"That's one of ours all right," Nathan examined the signal. "The question is who's sending it?" 

"Chiggy could've picked us up on LIDAR and decided to play a little game with us," Hawkes tossed out. "But we gotta check it out." 

"I'm getting a garbled, message from the Saratoga," Mitch called out. "I'm trying to clear it, but it doesn't sound good." 

"5-8 this is Commodore Ross," Connelly got the message stabilized enough so that they recognized Ross' worried face. "We are taking fire, repeat the Saratoga...........fire." In the background, the sound of guns blazing echoed through the small craft. "We are going to try.......lead them......from you. Will return in..........six days.......maybe.....longer......drop a com-sat.......that time. Good luck, Ross out." 

An hour later the ISSCV was headed in for a landing on 2063 Yankee. They had all wanted more time to search, but this wasn't the way they had wanted to get it. Everyone was worried about the Saratoga, but focused on the job they were doing. Ross said he would return, if it was humanly possible to do so, they knew he would. He had proved that once before, and they all believed him now. 

"How close in do we dare get?" Jenny asked, her eyes glued to an observation port. 

"Dare, is the right word, Dr. Kirkwood," Connelly sighed. "That homing beacon is located in some rough terrain. I figure it'll take us a day or so to get there. Nathan, I'm sending you the coordinates of the closest place we can land this thing."   
................................ 

The Clara Barton September 3, 2064, 0615 hours 

"Colonel," John Stark arrived at McQueen's room minutes before they were to take him to surgery. "If you'd like, I'll keep these books for you until you're well enough to read them?" 

McQueen nodded his head and reached for his dog tags with the hand not attached to an IV. He held the tags out, needing the Corpsman's help to get them over his head. The Colonel had been through enough surgery to know that they would be taken off of him very soon. For some reason, he knew that Stark would understand it was a private thing, so he wanted him to keep them for him. 

"You want me to take these?" Stark's blue eyes met McQueen's, as he helped him take off the chain containing a set of dog tags and a gold rope bracelet. "I'll keep it safe for you, Sir. Don't worry, by the time you wake-up, you'll be wearing it again." Both men understood Stark was referring to the bracelet, and could give a damn about the tags. 

That was the last thing McQueen remembered, that he knew was real, for the next twenty-four hours. He knew he had been taken to the OR, but the dreams he had under anesthesia and while recovering were so intense that it wiped everything else from his mind. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   
*'Over The Mountains Of The Moon'* 

It was a warm day. McQueen could feel the sun on his face and smell the sea air. He was walking a path up a mountain. His body felt light and he moved easily in jeans, hiking boots, and a t-shirt. He was carrying a light jacket against the possibility of wind. He knew where he was. He was climbing Mount Iwato in Higo province of Kyushu, Japan. His climb had a sense of purpose, but he wasn't sure what it was. 

When he finally reached the top, he saw an old man sitting on a mat writing in scrolls. 

"Warrior McQueen," the old man motioned for him to join him. "You have come at last. I have waited a long time for you to seek me out. Do you know who I am?" 

"You are Miyamoto Musashi?" McQueen didn't know how he knew, but he did. "What am I doing here?" 

"You have come to learn, McQueen," Musashi paused and watched the man before him. "Up until now you have lived a life of 'shin-ken' or as you would say, 'real sword,' you have walked the path of a warrior with 'utmost earnestness.' But of late, you worry much. You have many questions. I am here to help you answer them." 

"Am I dead?" Standing there, McQueen remember all of his conversation with Paul. 

"No, McQueen, your warrior's body is resting," Musashi reassured. "They have made you new again. Now is the time for you to 'become new', as well." 

"New? In what way?" McQueen sat cross-legged on the mat facing the old Warrior. 

"'If you get to feeling snarled up and are making no progress, you toss your mood away and think in your heart that you are starting everything anew. As you get the rhythm, you discern how to win.' So tell me, McQueen what has you snarled up?" 

"I made a decision a few months ago," he paused. "It was a Soldier's decision. It was the correct thing to do and we did it, but my heart wouldn't accept it, because it almost cost me the lives of five people who mean a great deal to me." McQueen felt again what he had felt during those three months while the Saratoga fought the battle at Ixion and the Wildcards had been left on Demios. 

"I had hoped 'a mountain and sea change.' would make the newness complete, but now I'm not so sure," the old man thought carefully. 

"'It is bad to do the same thing over and over again.'" McQueen squinted his eyes as he tried to remember the quote. "'You may have to repeat something once, but it should not be done a third time.'" 

"Yes, you have read this well," Musashi pointed to the unfinished scrolls, but you need to remember, 'this requires careful reflection.'" 

"But Sir," McQueen knew The Book Of Five Rings well, there was much he wanted to ask. "What you are talking about is changing fighting strategies." 

"Ahhh Warrior," Musashi shook his head in disappointment. "Just as I thought. You are only looking at the fight without, but what about the fight within? The 'reflection', McQueen, the 'reflection'! It is as important as the fighting." 

"I've been fighting all my life, Sir," McQueen looked far out over the valleys below. "Sometimes the fight has been just to stay alive, but most of the time it has been as a warrior." 

"Ahhhh, it is as I thought," the old man nodded his head. "Your fight has been a long and hard one, and it isn't over yet, but your heart is straying from the battle, is it not?" 

"It can't," McQueen denied what he was feeling. "I won't let it! I am what I am. This is what I was born to do!" 

"Is it, Young Warrior?" Musashi whispered. "But what of your 'genuine path'?" 

"How did you know?" McQueen was surprised, "how could you know what has been on my mind so much lately?" 

"I know what you know, Warrior," the old man sighed. "You must look into your heart and remember what I say. 'Even if you strive diligently on your chosen path day after day, if your heart is not in accord with it, then even if you think you are on a good path, from the point of view of the straight and true, this is not a genuine path. If you do not pursue a genuine path to its consummation, then a little bit of crookedness in the mind will later turn into a major warp.'" 

"Why do you keep calling me Warrior, if that isn't my path?" 

"One doesn't need to take up a sword or weapon, to be a warrior," Musashi smiled at his student. "There comes a time in each man's life when the killing must stop. If one is a strong warrior, one can choose the time. If one isn't, then he dies and the killing stops anyway. Tell me McQueen, how many years have you been a 'killing warrior'?" 

"This is my sixteenth year in the Corps," McQueen thought back to all the fighting he had done in that time. "I am a soldier, a warrior by trade." 

"We are much alike," the old man looked up and smiled. "I killed my first man at thirteen and my last at twenty-nine. For that sixteen years I was a killing warrior, just as you are." 

"Master, I have read that, but when you stopped killing, you didn't give up fighting," McQueen argued. "You went on to gain deeper knowledge and fighting skills. You were still a warrior." 

"That is so, Young Warrior," the Old Warrior nodded. "But that was my 'genuine path'. I followed it to the end as should be done." 

"Are you saying that it isn't mine?" 

"I am saying that you need to take this great worry that is upon your heart and cast it away," the old man's words became light and breathy. "Look at your life, all you have become, all you want to become. Follow your 'genuine path,' McQueen. There is one who will help you, but you must see her for what she is, first." His words moved on the breeze as the old warrior began to disappear. 

"Wait come back," McQueen called, still having many questions. 

"Remember this," the wind called back to him. "'Efficiency and smooth progress, prudence in all matters, recognizing true courage, recognizing different levels of moral, instilling confidence, and realizing what can and cannot be reasonably expected,' these are the principles that count. Live your life with 'shin-ken', and you will be a warrior in all your endeavors." 

Fog moved up from the valley below, as McQueen sat on the old warrior's mat thinking about all he had seen and heard. He reached an involuntary hand for his dog tags and the bracelet that hang between them. His fingers touched the warm gold and he thought of Jen, as the fog closed in. His body grew heavy and he heard the beeping of monitors in the background.   
.................................. 

The Clara Barton, September 3 2064, 2300 hours 

"Easy there Colonel," the quiet voice of John Stark pierced the fog. "You're doing just fine. The surgery went real well!" 

McQueen fought to open his eyes, but it was too much effort. "Jen," he mouthed her name and was surprised that he had forgotten about the trach tube. In his dream he had been able to speak and it had seemed so real. It caught him off guard that he couldn't. 

"You're going to be good as new, Sir," Stark whispered as he eyed McQueen's hand that was holding onto the gold rope. The Corpsman had seen Dr. Kirkwood hold onto that chain in the same way when she was worried or frightened when they had been trapped on Kordis. "Don't worry, she's watching over you." 

McQueen heard the whispered words. Jen was watching over him, so he could sleep. He relaxed back into the fog, not knowing who he would meet there, but knowing it would be all right because Jen had given him a piece of herself. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   
*'Down The Valley Of The Shadow'*: 

The sound of the cardiac monitor was replaced by the second movement of Beethoven's "Eroica" Symphony. *"Jen never liked that piece, she always said it was too maudlin,"* he thought to himself. *"She prefers Chopin and Mozart."* 

Looking up, McQueen realized he was standing in his quarters on the Saratoga. He was wearing sweat pants and a t-shirt. In his hand was his wedding picture. He did a double take when he looked into the smiling face of Amy. The glass covering the picture wasn't cracked? He looked over and Kelly Winslow was looking at him, waiting for him to speak. He realized it was that moment when he had a choice: truth or lie. In his anger after lying to her, he had thrown the picture across the room and cracked the glass. A short time later Winslow was killed. 

What had Winslow just asked him? *"Yes, I remember now, she had asked about the wedding picture and if Amy was on my mind,"* he thought. 

"I'm sorry Lieutenant," McQueen was finally able to apologize for lying to her all those months ago. 

"Colonel, I didn't mean to pry, Sir," she pulled herself to attention, thinking that she had gone too far in inquiring into his personal life. 

"Wait," the Colonel stopped her from leaving. "I was about to lie to you, that's what I'm sorry for." 

"Sir?" Winslow didn't think she had ever heard him apologize to anyone. 

"When I told you 'SHE Was on my mind a bit,' even that's a lie, of omission," he moved away from her and turned off the music. He didn't want any misunderstanding between them. He had been given another chance and he wanted to do it right. 

"Please, Colonel McQueen, this isn't necessary," Winslow was seeing a side to her commander she had never seen before and wasn't comfortable with. 

"It is, Lieutenant." McQueen nodded toward the picture, "yes, she's been on my mind, but only because I keep her there. I make myself look at this picture every day. It's become my shield against anyone else who tries to get in," as he said the words he realized how true they were. Not only a figurative shield, but he had literally put Jen's picture behind Amy's. 

"Is that why you've had no one to share your feelings with these last months?" Winslow rephrased her words from moments ago. 

"Yes, and I've made sure it stayed that way," McQueen turned away from her. "My life with Amy.....has been on my mind a lot. I deliberately remind myself of what I had and......the hell it turned into. That way I can keep......Well I think you get the idea." 

"There's someone the Colonel has come to care about?" Kelly was able to speak freely because she knew he wasn't talking about her. "Sir, a little advice from a woman, who is a Marine. There's a war on, you never know who will be here today, but gone forever in a matter of hours." 

Her words caught him by surprise, *"did she know she was talking about herself?"* He wondered as she smiled at him. 

"Sir, you said to me once," then she looked a bit puzzled. "No, maybe it's something you're going to say to me?" Shrugging her shoulders she continued, "you believe in asking yourself, then answering 'who am I?' Maybe you should change that to asking yourself, then looking for the answer 'who can I become?' That leaves open so many more possibilities." 

"She's going to say that to me," McQueen looked at Winslow in surprise. She was remembering things that had yet to happen. "The night that I kiss her, she told me that, too." 

"So then the feelings are mutual?" Winslow squirmed a bit when she thought of the Colonel kissing someone. She realized why Shane had been uncomfortable when they had talked about him in the Tun. "She feels the same way about you?" Shaking her head, she couldn't understand why she had ever thought of him as anything but The Colonel! 

"No, Winslow, she doesn't," he admitted. "She thinks of me as a friend." 

"Colonel, you're the man who killed Chiggy Von Richthofen," she stepped close to him, not seeming to realized that she was talking about something that happened after her death. "You're known as an excellent tactician and strategist. Plot yourself a campaign. Out maneuver her. Ask yourself, then answer, 'what can my life become?'" 

Winslow's voice mixed with Beethoven and the room spun. McQueen closed his eyes to fight the dizziness.   
........................................   
  
The Clara Barton September 4, 2064, 0230 hours 

He heard the sounds of that damn monitor again, but other then that, his room was quiet. Fighting to open his eyes, he found himself back on the the hospital ship. Someone, probably Stark, had left a pad and pen next to his right hand. Reaching for them, McQueen quickly scribbled a few words. He knew that he needed to remember his dreams. 

The effort it took to write the key words left him feeling drained. His hands slid to his sides, still gripping the pen and pad, as music kept beat with the monitor. He thought it was Beethoven again, but it was so faint he couldn't tell. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   
*'Ride Boldly, Ride'*: 

No, it wasn't Beethoven that throbbed in McQueen's brain, but the honkytonk sound of Johnny Cash. McQueen didn't know the song, but it made him think of.......... 

"You know, McQueen, you taught them real good," the smoky voice of Lt. Col. Ray Butts caused McQueen to turn quickly. "Yup, real good." 

"Butts, what are you doing here?" The in-vitro Colonel looked around and he was no longer in his quarters or on the Clara, but standing beside a table in the Asteroid Bar in Loxley, Alabama. He was wearing the jeans, t-shirt and hiking boots from earlier. Over his arm was his black Angry Angel jacket. 

"More to the point is what you're doing here," Butts took a drag on a cigarette and poured himself more whiskey. "Have a drink," the dead man picked up the extra glass on his table and filled it half-full. 

"Okay, I bite, what am I doing here?" McQueen pulled out the other chair at the table and sat. 

"You're here, we're here," Butts crushed out his cigarette. "To come to an understanding. There are things I couldn't tell you when we met before, that need to be said now." 

"The 58th...?" 

"This isn't about them, this is about you," the Recon Colonel leaned back in his chair. "That first day on the Saratoga when I told you, 'don't think for one second that we're equals----Tank.' I added the insult to throw you off. We aren't equals, McQueen. You're so far above me that we don't belong in the same room. But we're flip sides of the same coin. You're what I would have become, if things had been different. What I should have become. Keep in mind, you were starting to become me a few years ago and you'll head back down that road if you don't get your head screwed on right." 

"You're crazy, Butts," the man had finally gone round the bend. McQueen didn't want to hear anymore of his nonsense. "West was right when he called you Colonel Semper-Psycho." 

"Ha, you knew about that did ya? But consider this, you're sitting here talking to a dead man. Whose the crazy one?" Butts grinned, then got very serious, "did Shane tell you what she said, as well?" 

"I don't know how I know what they said about you," McQueen looked puzzled. "I'm not talking to a dead man. This is just a dream, or in your case a nightmare!" 

They could hear Shane's voice as Johnny Cash grew quiet for the moment. "'No one is born that mean, they either put it on for affect, or something happens. Something turns them that mean and they can never go back. The worst is they know it.'" 

"Dreams can be a real bitch," the Recon Colonel shook his head. "Hay, I thought in-vitros didn't dream?" 

"You thought wrong," McQueen challenged. 

Butts shrugged then went on. "You're worried about those kids of yours," he held the other man's eyes as he spoke. "Don't be." 

"What exactly does that mean?" 

"It means just that, 'don't be'!" The dead man leaned closer to McQueen, ignoring his question. "You were right back then. I was only interested in me, and my needs. If that squad had belonged to anyone else I would probably have gone on as I always had. Then they would've died. My God, if I couldn't protect my own men, how could I be expected to protect someone elses. But something happened when I met you. I saw me in you, but me a long time ago. When it came time to make that last decision, for the sake of the tiny piece of my soul that was left, I did what needed to be done." 

"Have Vansen and Damphousse died?" McQueen ground out. 

"I only know about Paul," the dead man whispered. "But if they were to die, you need to know that you have the ability to overcome it. That's the difference between us. Too much death, walking ankle deep in blood and still not having the killing stop, that's what did it to me. You were headed that way. You need to look deep in you and find why you changed. Believe me when I say this, McQueen. If that change hadn't already taken place, the 58th would've been just another group of Marines. Not that different from the Angry Angels." 

"No, you're wrong!" McQueen denied. 

"Am I?" Butts began to blur and his voice was indistinct. "Ask yourself, then answer, 'who was I? And 'what am I now?' Then if you have the guts, ask 'why?'" The questions echoed through the empty room, as it too began to blur. The sound of Johnny Cash faded and McQueen could hear the familiar sound of the cardiac monitor beating the tempo of his heart.   
....................................... 

The Saratoga September 3, 2064, 0800 hours 

The battle hadn't lasted long, but it had been intense and the Saratoga had sustained damage. They were going to have to find a place to hide while repairs were made. Commodore Ross paced the bridge and cursed himself for letting Jenny Kirkwood talk him into sending the 58th on what was most likely a futile rescue attempt. He had ended up doing something he had sworn he would never do again: leave soldiers behind! 

"Com. Chang, the bridge is your's. I'll be on my wrist unit, if you need me," he stalked off the bridge, leaving the impression that they had better the hell not need him, unless they were attacked again! 

"Yes Sir," Chang and the rest of the bridge crew breathed a sigh of relief. Ross was usually an easy man to work for, but when his feathers were ruffled, no one wanted to get in his way. 

Ten minutes later Ross arrived in the alcove he knew was McQueen's refuge. Up until his talk with Jenny yesterday, he didn't think Ty had shared this place with anyone else. It hadn't been anything she had said, more a feeling he had gotten. Pulling a rumpled envelope with McQueen's handwriting on it out of his pocket, he sat on the ledge and watched the stars. 

"I talked to your doctor this morning," Ross muttered. The letter was a poor substitution for his friend, but it would have to do. "You're in surgery right now. What am I going to tell you if you beat them back, or if God forbid, I don't get them back for you? I guess I better see how bad it's going to be." The Commodore opened the envelope and pulled out the letter dated November 19, 2063.   
  
Dear Glen, 

When we talked, half an hour ago, you said that anyone who goes on this mission is dead, you may be right. If you are, then my place is with my squadron. I've lost one squad in this lifetime, and I don't plan on outliving another. 

You've been a good friend to me, in a time when it is hard to be friends with an in-vitro. I hate to think what that may have cost you over the years. I know that there have been times when I was careless with our friendship. Understand, that has been from lack of practice, not from lack of caring. 

Jen Kirkwood was my doctor in detox three years ago, and she was with the Angry Angels for almost a year before the war. She means things to me.........I don't have the ability to describe. When you and General Savage assigned her to the 58th I knew you expected me to protect her. That's something I would have done anyway, because I know I can go out and do what ever needs to be done, as long as I know she is somewhere in this Universe, alive and well. I've known that for a long time. 

If the worst happens and we don't return, I have two favors to ask. The first is to take care of Jen. She'll fight you on this, but I know you and I know her. You would be good for each other. You could take care of her and give her things that are beyond my understanding. 

The second favor is in my quarters. I would like you to take her there and open up the picture frame that's sitting on my desk. The wedding photo is nothing but camouflage. There is another picture hidden there. Tell her I put it there the night I showed her the alcove. Then, maybe she'll be able to forgive me for not letting her come along with us. 

Ty 

"Damn," Ross mutter as he reread the letter for the third time. He stood quickly wanting to see what was hidden behind the picture of Amy. "No," he stopped and sat back down. "Ty means that for Jenny to see, not me." 

*"Jenny and McQueen who would have guessed?"* Ross thought, and could only shake his head at the irony of the situation. McQueen would give her to another man if it would keep her safe. She would put her life at risk, if it meant the safety of people he cared about. *"What a mess!"*   
.................................. 

Planet 2063Y, September 3, 2064, 1200 hours 

West had landed the ISSCV in a small clearing six hours earlier. Though they had all wanted to head out for the coordinates of the homing beacon, Jenny over-ruled them. None of them had slept since leaving the Saratoga, and with the lower gravity of the planet, footing would be dangerous enough without adding exhaustion to it. 

"Jenny, wake up," Hawkes spoke quietly to the woman who was murmuring in her sleep. 

"Hmm," she looked up at him with a sleepy smile. 

"It's almost time to get up," Hawkes couldn't meet her eyes. "You were a....mumbling in your sleep." 

"Sorry," she sat up as she remembered where she was. "I didn't mean to wake you." She had been dreaming of sailing. The night sky was full of stars, she and Ty were together at the wheel as they maneuvered the Windswept into a cove, the Southern Cross above their heads. 

"No, problem, I was on guard duty, so I was awake," Hawkes turned away from her, afraid she would ask him more questions. He couldn't tell her that she'd been talking to McQueen in her sleep. 

"Any response from the radio signal we sent out?" West joined the group. 

"Nope," Hawkes shook his head. "It doesn't make sense. We get the homing beacon, but no radio response. It's as if the radio isn't turned on." No one was going to mention the other possibility. 

"Maybe it was damaged in the landing," Connelly added as he helped make up packs for the trip to the large body of water where the beacon was originating. 

"Guys?" Jen looked over all that was laid out for the trip and saw only three M-590 assault weapons. "What's the idea, don't I get one?" 

"Jen-ny," Nathan stumbled over her name. "See that red cross on your helmet," he pointed toward the rack of helmets. "That means you're protected. Sidearm only!" 

"All that red cross means to the Chigs is X-marks the spot." She pulled a black baseball style cap out of her back pocket and placed it on her head. The only red on the cap was the tiny lightening bolt striking through the halo and between the Angel wings. "Now, are you going to give me an M-590 or not?" They had all seen the Angry Angel patch on her fatigues, when she had taken off her utility vest. So far no one had the nerve to ask about it and no one asked her about the cap, either. 

"Do you know how to use one of these?" Nathan was beginning to realize that Ross hasn't stood a chance against Kirkwood. She wanted this rescue to happen and it had. He'd never realize how stubborn she could be. 

"Yes," she smiled. She remembered lessons on the firing range that she hadn't wanted, but McQueen had insisted she have, after that first trip on the Yorktown. He had seemed to think it was important that she be able to defend herself when the Angels were on missions. "I had an excellent teacher," her fingers brushed against the knife in her utility vest. 

An hour later they headed out. The ISSCV left well camouflaged. The lower gravity of the planet made supplies easier to carry, but footing precarious. It was going to be a long day and the strange nights on 2063Y were going to make it rougher. They had planned to hike until they ran out of light, then camp until 'morning.' West led the way, with Connelly bringing up the rear. The three Marines were worried about the Navy doctor, and kept a careful eye on her as they climbed. So far there had been no signs of enemy activity. No one knew if that was a good thing or not. 

Seven hours later Nathan called a halt for the night. They hadn't traveled as far as they would have liked, due to the two rain storms that had swept through the mountains making it impossible to go on until things cleared a bit. 

As West and Connelly helped Jenny set up a rough camp, Hawkes checked out the parameter. They were wet, tired and hungry. 

"Any chance of a fire, Nathan?" Jenny asked as she rung out her cap. 

"I don't think we'd better chance it," he looked around. "Even if we could find something dry enough to burn." 

"Good point," Jen grinned. 

"Connelly," Coop called to the others. "You're the resident computer expert aren't you? Come check this out." 

"What did you find?" Mitch Connelly came to a halt as he saw Hawkes leaning over the body of a Faliciti OH model, Artificial Intelligence being. "Shit! I hate those things, they give computers a bad name!" 

"Is it some kind of trap?" Coop didn't trust AIs, even one that appeared to be dead. "Nathan, Jenny, you better come over here and bring a flashlight." 

"I think we're safe moving it back to camp," Mitch had checked the AI carefully for trip wires and found none. "I'd like to try and figure out what happened here. Though, without a diagnostic I won't know for sure." 

"How come you know so much about these things," Jen wondered. As the others ate, Mitch pulled out a set of micro tools and began opening Faliciti's CPU. He was more interested in the inner workings of the AI than food. 

"My law practice was Intellectual Properties," Mitch carefully removed the plating from the unit's head. "We still get the occasional copyright dispute, but it's mainly internet and computer law, now days. Anyone who doesn't know the workings of computers, both software and hardware, is going to end up hurting in my business." 

"You can make money doing that?" Nathan had applied to law school and would have gone if he and Kylen hadn't been accepted for the Tellus project. 

"Sure can," Mitch smiled at him. "They've been trying to regulate the internet for over 70 years. It's what keeps me in business. Governments trying to legislate peoples thoughts, it'll never happen," he shook his head as he shined the flashlight on the heart and soul of an AI. 

"What did ya find," Hawkes looked over his shoulder. He remembered McQueen taking one of those things apart on Kazbek. It had held the answers to their problems then, he wondered if luck was still with them. 

"Will you look at that?" Mitch held up a small crystal that was dull and murky looking. "No wonder she's dead in the water," he shook his head. "That's her power cell. The indicator says it's drained, but what's that stuff in there? I don't understand how this can happen. I've read that these units have safeties built in that shut them down before their cells can be exhausted." 

Hawkes and West looked at each other across the body of the AI, both remembering a story Paul had told them about another Faliciti model with a drained power cell. It had been months ago and a number of sectors away. 

"Mitch?" Jenny looked over his shoulder. "I had thought those cells were clear? Do they usually look like that when they're drained." 

"Can't tell for sure Lady-Doc," he shrugged. "I've never seen one like this before. I've never heard of it happening, either. Logic says it would be empty. This almost looks like it had power, but something is wrong with it. For some reason the unit couldn't process it." 

"We've heard of it happening before," West answered for both Marines. "It was on the planet Minerva, in the spring. We ran into an ElroyL that was searching for a power cell for another Faliciti. They both appeared to be suffering from a computer virus of some kind." 

"What kind of virus?" Mitch was fascinated. 

"I got this story second hand, from Paul," Nathan hated to remember the damage Paul had suffered from the AI's on two occasions. "He told us that the two AI's were sick. Some kind of virus that made them feel *emotions*. The Elroy said it loved the Faliciti. When she died, the Elroy attacked us and Paul killed him in the battle." 

"'Love', are you sure Paul wasn't pulling your leg?" Mitch knew Paul had had a great sense of humor. 

"Nope, no way," Hawkes shook his head. "Paul wouldn't kid about an Elroy model!" 

"I'm going to try and pull her memory chip," Mitch reached for his micro tools and went back to work. "With any luck she hasn't downloaded recently and there'll be stored files intact here. I can't check them until we get back to the Saratoga, but this could be a real break for our side." 

That night Jenny was too exhausted to dream. She was thankful for the grueling physical exercise that day. It keep her mind off a twelve hour surgery that had taken place on the Clara Barton. *"If things had gone well, Ty should be in the Post Anesthesia Care Unit by now,"* she thought as she looked at her watch before drifting off to sleep. *"2350, her watch had said, yes that should be about right."*   
............................... 

September 4, 1120 hours 

"Nathan, the homing beacon is getting stronger," Connelly whispered as he and West crouched in some bushes at the base of the trail. A wide expanse of beach in front of them. The lake so large, that even with binoculars they couldn't see the other side. 

West gave the hand signals for Hawkes and Jenny to come the last few feet down the trail, to join them in the bushes. 

"We go east," Connelly pointed to the right. "According to this range finder, the signal is about two klicks in that direction." 

"I don't like it," Hawkes muttered. "It's all out in the open." 

"We'll stick close to the cliffs, lets move out," West headed out. "Everyone keep down and quiet." 

Thirty minutes later they discovered the concealed cockpit. There was no sign of either woman. Just the cockpit, with the homing beacon, hidden in bushes. On close inspection, they saw that the radio was missing. 

"Hold it right there Scum Bags," the tired voice of Shane Vansen caught them by surprise. "Nathan, Coop, Jenny?" Then Shane did something that surprised them more than if she had shot them, she burst into tears.   
................................. 

The Clara Barton September 4, 2064, 1200 hours 

They had made him wake up that morning at 0700. McQueen had hurt all over, but the pain was much less then he had expected. He was still weak, but they were pushing him to get his strength back. 

That damn Respiratory Therapist had been in again, as well. Lt. Charles was her name. McQueen thought she could give lessons to the AI's when it came to torture. He had to give her credit though, even if she was making him choke his lungs out, he always felt better after a 'treatment session,' as she called it. As a reward for his cooperation that morning, Lt. Charles, or Chuck as John Stark called her, taught him the technique of covering his trach tube with his finger and pushing air, to his larynx, with his diaphragm. It enabled him to speak in a whisper. 

It had been mid-morning when he found the note pad. He recognized his handwriting, but had no memory of writing anything during the night. The words didn't make any sense: 'Musashi, 5 Rings, warrior, genuine path, new again, Winslow, can become, 16 yrs.', then at the bottom, separate from all the rest, 'Butts'. Something was gnawing at his memory. He knew it was important, but the harder he tried to remember the more illusive it became. 

"Colonel McQueen," there was a knock on his door then General Savage walked into the room. 

McQueen did a double take as the man walked over to his bed. "Are you a dream?" McQueen asked with difficulty, as he used Lt. Charles' method for speech. 

"I like to believe Pats thinks so," he grinned at the Colonel. "But other then that, I've never been called anyone's dream." 

"What are you doing here?" The effort those few words cost McQueen made him realize how much work there was ahead of him. 

The General checked the door, then pulled up a chair next to the bed. "Ross notified me," he looked grim. "There are some things we need to talk about. Since this," Savage raised his left arm, showing McQueen the gloved hand of his prosthesis. "They're using me as a goodwill ambassador to the troops. I took the assignment because it allows me to travel where I need to go. Your doctor tell's me they were able to do much better for you." He pointed to McQueen's right foot. "I have messages for Ross that are too sensitive to go any way but with someone I trust. That's you. We need to get you up and moving. I'd do it myself, but coming here was stretching my cover as far as I dare. If I went to the Saratoga, the game would be up." 

"What's happened?" McQueen whispered, "what about my people?" 

"Let me do the talking, McQueen," Savage smiled. "I need you back on the Saratoga, so starting tomorrow morning, they're stepping up your rehab program, save your strength and your throat, you're going to need them. 

"I believe you've already been told that Lt. Paul Wang died in action while providing cover for the Homeward Bound Mission allowing it to escape. General George Robertson is pushing to have him awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor, post humously." 

As Savage told him about Wang, McQueen could see himself talking to Paul as they had stood in the ISSCV and the Corpsmen had tried to force life back into the Colonel. McQueen's eyes strayed to the note pad in his hand. There was no mention of the out-of-body experience he had had. Did he dream it, or had it been real? He knew he wasn't going to forget what Paul had said. Dream or reality, it didn't matter. Somehow Paul had found a way to get through to him. 

"Ross tells me that there's a team on 2063Y, as we speak. If they'll find Vansen and Damphousse, I don't know, but they're trying." Savage was careful not to give any details of the mission. If what Pats had told him held any truth, McQueen would go ballistic if he knew Jenny was there. He doubted it would help the man's frame of mind to hear that West and Hawkes were along, as well. 

"There's more, much more," Savage sighed. He hated to rush McQueen's rehab, but he was needed to help Ross. "The bomb that injured you and killed the others in that meeting was a time bomb, intended to take out the Saratoga," 

"No," McQueen whispered. "You've got to get Jen out of there!" 

"Let me do the talking, and that's an order. Weakness from loss of blood and the damage to your throat are going to hold you back more than the new leg. So you don't talk. You listen!" The General out maneuvered McQueen for the moment. He wasn't about to answer any questions about Jenny or the rescue team. 

"As far as we can figure the bomb was set by Major Craig Rabwin. He was the last one to be in the room before the conference and the computer that housed the bomb, belonged to him. Unfortunately, there is no way for us to question Rabwin. Whoever had him set the bomb on the Saratoga, also set one on the Nebraska. We think the second bomb was probably placed in Rabwin's gear, but since the Nebraska was destroyed, we have no way of checking for sure. I doubt he know he was carrying it, given how fast he high tailed it off the Saratoga." 

Savage talked and McQueen listened for the better part of an hour. The General filling him in on all that was going on. The best news was regarding the search for information on in-vitro DNA that Jack Longley was conduction for the General. The young doctor had been able to convince Dr. Abaan to come out of retirement and help him with the project. Having the man who invented artificial gestation working with them was going to be a big help. 

The General could tell McQueen was tiring, but he had a few more things to say. "These are for you," he handed McQueen two envelopes. "One's from Pats and one's from Lars Morgans. They wanted me to give them to you. Here is another one for Jenny." 

As the General handed over the letters, McQueen reached for the older man's right hand. Where before he had worn no rings, Savage was wearing a plane gold band. 

"Busted!" Savage laughed. "I wondered how long it was going to take you to notice." 

"Patsy?" McQueen mouthed. "Why? How?" 

"Of course Pats," the tender look that filled Savage's eyes surprised McQueen. "Why? Because I love her, it's that simple, my boy. I love her! How? I outflanked her, I out maneuvered her. The moment I realized how much I loved her and that she loved me back, I plotted a campaign that would make D-Day look like a stroll on the beach. She didn't stand a chance. That's one of the perks of being a General. I hope Jenny will forgive me for not waiting until she got home, but I wasn't taking any chances of letting Pats get away." 

After Savage left, McQueen kept thinking about what Savage had said about Patsy. He looked at the writing pad again, trying to jog his memory. *"Winslow? Did it have something to do with her?"* Adding a few notations next to her name on the pad, he let it slide from his fingers. His eyes closed, his right hand moved to his dog tags and the warm gold that was resting on his chest, under his hospital gown.   
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

*'The Shade Replied'*: 

"Colonel McQueen?" Lt. Shane Vansen's voice broke into his thoughts. "Am I doing the right thing?" 

McQueen looked around. He was on the Landing Bay of the Saratoga. All around them pilots and flight crew were frozen in action. Only he and Shane were able to move. 

"You mean, if you're doing it just for him?...." He started to repeat what he had once told her, back when she still wore lieutenant's bars. 

"Yes?" Her brown eyes begged him for an answer. 

"There has to be something beyond this war," he listened to the words he had told her months ago, not knowing where they had come from at the time. 

"Does there?" She questioned, "do you really believe that, Sir?" 

That wasn't how it was supposed to go. McQueen shook his head, confused. "I....hope there is Shane," he answered honestly. 

"What's there for you, Colonel?" Shane pulled herself out of the cockpit and sat on the side of her Hammerhead. 

"I don't believe that's any of your business," he put his hands low on his hips as he stood over her. 

"You're wrong," Shane held out her hand to the older man. "Come with me." 

As Shane's hand touched his, they were taken to a different time and a different place. McQueen looked around and knew exactly where he was. They were standing in front of 'Dooley's' a cafe-bar, that was frequented by students that went to Wilkes University in Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania. 

"Hrumph," the Colonel grunted at Shane, as they entered the cafe. "What are you, The Ghost of Christmas Past?" McQueen remembered the time he had spent here. He had been staying in Ross' cabin in the Susquehanna River valley of the Poconoes, after his first session with detox, years ago. This was the place where he'd met Amy. She'd been a senior at the University. 

"No, Sir," Shane looked up at him, then across the room at the younger McQueen who was sitting at a table with a very pretty blond. "I didn't bring us here, you did." 

"Me?" He looked around the cafe-bar, it was just as he remembered it. "Why would I want to go back to this time in my life?" 

"I don't know." Shane was fascinated to see the younger McQueen. "I think it has something to do with what you said before. About, 'there has to be something beyond this war.'" 

"I couldn't have been talking about Amy!" McQueen knew with a certainty that his future didn't have anything to do with her. "Maybe it was something I said to Winslow?" He fought to remember exactly what he had said to her about his life with Amy. 

Shane and McQueen stepped closer to the couple sitting at a corner table. They could just hear the hushed words as the young people made plans for the future. Amy was looking into the young in-vitro's eyes as if he held the secret to the universe. 

"It's hard to resist someone who looks at you like that," Shane spoke to the man standing beside her. "I know, John Oakes used to look at me in the same way." 

"I didn't resist," McQueen shook his head. Looking at his younger self through older eyes, he saw a lot that he had missed back then. "And I never really listened to the words she was saying. If I had, I wouldn't have asked her to marry me. I was seeing and hearing what I wanted to, not what was really there." 

"When John died," Shane remembered a conversation that had helped her. "Jenny told me many things, but I think the thing that she said that helped the most, was when she asked me, 'if I was mourning the loss of a boy who had been a sweetheart, or a man who had the potential to be a life time partner?'" 

"How did you answer her?" He smiled tenderly thinking how smart Jen was in the ways of life. 

"I couldn't that night," Shane sighed. "But I thought about it for a long time. When an answer finally came, it was that we had only been sweethearts. What John and I had, wasn't enough to build a life on. If we had married, it would have ended in disaster." 

"Disaster," McQueen shook his head as he thought of his own marriage. "You mean like my marriage became? I already know all about that!" 

"Do you, TC?" Amy asked, as she walked in the door, looking exactly as she had the last time McQueen had seen her. "Sorry I'm late," her smile was as lovely as ever. 

"You knew she was coming!" McQueen accused. Amy's constant tardiness had been a source of irritation long ago, and it wasn't any easier to take now. 

"I didn't know who was going to show up," Shane shrugged. "It's your dream, Sir." 

"TC, don't be angry. I want to make things right," Amy turned serious as she faced her ex-husband. "I'm sorry for all the pain I caused you." 

"You're sorry?" He wondered if the simple words were expected to wipe out all that had happened between them. 

"Yes," Amy stood up to him, something she had never done in the past. "I'm apologizing for the way the divorce happened, not the divorce, TC. We never should have married, that was our mistake. Getting divorced was setting it right, but I was too young to admit that, so I placed the blame on you, that's what I'm sorry for." 

"I couldn't change who I was," he sighed. "I am an in-vitro and you're not." 

"That was never a problem for me," Amy smiled. "The man I thought I loved, is over there," she pointed to the young McQueen sitting with the younger version of herself. "The one who danced with me in the moonlight beside the Susquehanna River. It was the Warrior in you I never understood. Unfortunately, he's the biggest part of you. You'll always be a Warrior, no matter what you do in life." 

"That seems to be a common theme recently," McQueen shook his head. "There's more to life than moonlight and dancing, you know." 

"I know that, I knew it then," Amy could see this was going to end up in one of their arguments if they weren't careful. "You have to remember there is more to life than fighting." 

"There's more to being a Warrior than fighting," McQueen wasn't sure where that idea had come from. Turning he watched the two happy people at the table, as he thought about the past. "Were we ever that young?" 

"We were younger," Amy giggled. "Too bad we can't whisper some knowledge into their ears. Save them a lot of pain to come." 

"Thank you, Amy," he smiled down at the woman by his side. "For what you said now and for setting me free years ago. I was miserable, but all I could remember was this." He pointed to how happy they had been once. "It kept me from doing what needed to be done. Look at us, we were so in love with the idea of being in love we never stopped to question if we loved each other." 

"You've learned a lot," Amy nodded in approval. "If you've learned that, why haven't you let anyone into your life? There's got to be someone out there who understands the Warrior in you?" Her words were left hanging in the air as she disappeared, leaving him standing with Shane, watching the younger version of Amy and himself. 

"Damn!" McQueen looked around at empty space. His frustration with Amy returning. When they had tried to talk things out in the past, she would leave the room if things got sticky. This time she'd had her say, then evaporated! "I have learned Shane. The 58th is my life, they're family to me," he turned toward the Marine who was once again a captain. "You must know that." 

"That's an easy love, Sir," Shane challenged, then repeated his words from the hanger deck. "'There has to be something beyond this war'. What will you have, Colonel? Who will you have?" 

"Easy love?" McQueen gasped. "You've got to be kidding. Loving you guys is like having my heart torn out each time I send you on a mission, without me." 

"Feeling a bit like Prometheus?" Shane looked at him as if they shared a secret. 

"Jen said that," McQueen accused. "How did you know?" 

"Yes, Jen," Vansen's eyes danced as she watched the Colonel squirm. "I think you need to ask yourself then answer, 'what's the real reason you wouldn't let her go on that mission to Kazbek?'" 

Shane disappeared, the yeasty beer smell of Dooley's was replaced by the smell of hospital, and McQueen was back were he belonged. But this time the dream stayed with him. As his eyes opened and he looked around his room on the Clara, he knew he had been dreaming and it was important.   
............................. 

The Clara Barton September 4, 2064- 1725 hours 

"Here you go Colonel McQueen," Stark brought him his dinner. 

"I'm supposed to eat this stuff?" McQueen whispered. It frustrated him, that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get enough air to move over his vocal cords to produce a normal voice. "It's just liquids...and...jello?" He looked with disgust at the first food he'd seen since lunch with Jen on the Saratoga, forever ago. 

"I know it's hospital food and only clear liquids, but Lt. Charles has given her okay to start reintroducing foods. She's being very careful regarding your throat. I've seen the schedule the General and Dr. Turek have planned for you. My advice is to eat." 

"I don't suppose you could be persuaded to bring me some real food?" McQueen pinned the Corpsman with a steely look. 

"No, Sir, but good try," John laughed. "The General wants you up, on your feet and out of here as soon as possible. What he says goes! I'll tell you what. You eat all of that, with no problems, and keep it down. Then I'll see you get some coffee. But don't push it. If you start choking or can't swallow, they're going to put down a feeding tube, so take it slow and easy." 

"I'd like to see them try," McQueen challenged, it was hard sounding tough when he could only whisper. 

"You are feeling better tonight, Sir," Stark grinned. He would lay odds on the Colonel anytime, even if he lacked the voice to back himself up. 

"Coffee, huh," McQueen whispered, knowing he needed to keep focused. Savage said he was needed on the Saratoga and he wanted to get back there for reasons of his own. "I guess that'll have to do. Where you with the General long?" 

"Yes, Sir," the Corpsman sat with his patient watching him ate. "I was with the 918th Air Wing for almost a year before Kordis." 

"Tell me about it," McQueen looked up, needing to know what Jen had been through. 

"I was working in sickbay the day Dr. Kirkwood arrived," Stark knew what McQueen really wanted to hear and he figured it was about time. "I couldn't believe they'd sent her to that God forsaken planet. She looked too tiny to do the things that needed to be done and whenever you got real close to her you smelled...." 

"Roses," McQueen whispered. Stark didn't think the older man realized he'd spoken. 

"Roses." John cleared his throat and went on, "you could tell from the beginning that Savage wasn't going to give her a chance. Politics," he shrugged apologetically. "Things sure did changed for the General, in the last months." It was hard for John to believe that Savage's anti-in-vitro stance had taken a complete about-face, but it was obvious that it had. 

"Kordis.." McQueen mouthed as a reminder. 

"Kordis," Stark repeated, thinking back to the early days of the war. "We were deep cover Recon. It was your usual muddy, windy, combat hell. Not enough of anything except dirt, death, and fear and everyone living on coffee to keep going. We didn't have the thunder storms at the air strip that we had in the area where we crashed, but it would rain something fierce, and it could get bone chilling cold. The Lady-Doc went on about her business as if she was at a base hospital on Earth. Nothing seemed to touch her. She was all doctor. She would treat the men she could. The ones she couldn't......well.....she'd make sure they didn't die alone." 

"When she first got there, some of the guys tried to make a pass at her. She was the only woman there who wouldn't try to wrap your balls around your neck if you smiled at her." Stark shrugged thinking about how tough some of the female pilots and ground crew could be. "It didn't take them long to realize that she wasn't interested." He searched for the right words. "But it was more than not being interested, it was like that part of her wasn't there, anymore. I caught a glimpse of the woman she kept hidden away, about a week after she arrived. We were all supposed to be undercover. There was a huge firefight going on in the night sky. It was thousands of miles away, but we could see it. I found her huddled in the door to Sickbay. Her eyes glued to what was going on above us. She was..well..she was holding on tightly to her dog tags." Both men knew that Stark was talking about her bracelet not her tags. "The expression on her face was one I'll never forget. When she realized I was there, she pulled herself back, changing from woman to doctor before my eyes. That's the night she became The Lady, to me. 

"It wasn't until we were trapped in the cave that I realized the significance of what I'd seen that night. Lady-Doc wasn't seeing the fight that had been going on above her. She was seeing another fight, back at the beginning of the war. The one that killed The Major." 

"The Major?" McQueen was caught off guard, wanting to hear what Stark had to say, but dreading it as well. 

"Yeah, The Major," Stark shook his head. "The Lady began telling us stories to keep us occupied during the long days and nights in that cave. Most of them were about one of those specialized flying groups. You know the ones, that can out-fly anything. Unfortunately, they couldn't out-fly the Chigs, because they all died." 

"What makes you think Jen was thinking about them?" McQueen couldn't have spoken above a whisper, if his life had depended on it. 

"I think she was thinking about him, not them," Stark looked the older man in the eyes. He figured this man needed to know the truth. He didn't know what there was between McQueen and Kirkwood, but there was something. The Colonel was wearing the proof attached to his dog tags. "When things were real bad for us, she'd grip that bracelet and look upward, sometimes I'd see her lips moving. It was like she was talking to him. I know she heard him talking to her, especially in her dreams." 

"Her dreams?" The hairs on the back of McQueen's neck stood up, as all of his dreams came rushing back. 

"I don't know who that Major of her's was, but he saved my life, indirectly." As Stark talked, an idea began to form. Hadn't McQueen been with the Angry Angels? Hadn't they been killed in one of the first engagements of the war? What if? No, it couldn't be? The Corpsman shook his head and went on with his story. Though, he planned to do a bit of research when he went off duty that night. 

"Without him, I think, The Lady would have crumpled before rescue arrived, and we would have died. I still don't know how she made it. She hardly slept, or ate, just took care of us. The few times I could get her to sleep, she'd dream. I could always tell if it had been a nightmare or a dream by the look in her eyes when she woke up. Toward the end, there were nothing but nightmares, and she gave up sleeping except when her body gave out." A clear memory came back to Stark. He had awakened Dr. Kirkwood from a nightmare and she had called him a name...someone elses name, he wished he could remember. At the time he had known she was dreaming and didn't pay much attention. "I'd try to get her to sleep more, but she'd tell me 'there'll be plenty of time to rest when I'm dead.' Then go on doing what ever she was doing. Do you know what the real kicker is? I don't think she knew." 

"Knew what?" 

"I don't think she knew that she stopped living the night the Major died," Stark shook his head. "So there was no reason she couldn't have gotten all the rest she needed." 

"Why did you tell me this?" McQueen whispered, feeling as if someone had punched him in the stomach. 

"Because you asked." 

"I only asked to hear about Kordis," McQueen argued. 

"Did you?" Stark reached for the Colonel's empty tray. "I'll check you in an hour, and if you still want that coffee, I'll get it for you." 

McQueen had heard enough about the stories that Jen had told to know he was probably The Major. Stark was reading his own ideas into what she had said and done. McQueen was sure the Corpsman was wrong. Jen was mourning the loss of the Angry Angels all right, but it had nothing to do with him. Sure, he and Jen had been friends back then, but there was no way he was as important to her as Stark had said, even when she had thought he had died. 

The Colonel was nothing if not a realist. He'd known Jen for a long time and he knew how she felt about him. Their friendship had grown over the years, but as far as Jen was concerned, that was all it was. He'd been having problems recently because he discovered the transient desire he had felt for her over the years had become anything but transient! What she felt for him, had nothing to do with fire and need. She had proved that the night in his quarters when she discovered the problems with the in-vitro DNA, and then again a few weeks ago.   
  
What he had seen in her eyes both those night, and mistaken for passion, was nothing but loneliness and fear. The kiss? He smiled at the memory. *"Yes, Jen, I kissed you, but you kissed me back."* Part of him wondered what would have happened if they'd been anywhere else but in the Wildcards' quarters. That same part of him was thankful that it had ended where it had started. Jen meant too much to him to lose her over a...a....what? Whenever he tried to think past that point, his mind shied away. What was there about it that he couldn't look at? What was it about that kiss, that kept him from asking himself, then answering, 'why not?' 

His mind was moving too fast, filled with thoughts of Jen. Jen as Stark had described her, a woman looking to something with no substance for support. Jen as they had laughed together over the years. Jen being kissed and kissing him, weeks ago. *"Yes, that was his favorite memory."* He smiled to himself as his eyes grew heavy and he reached for her bracelet to guide him in his sleep. His last waking thought being that she never had explained why she wore the gold rope he had given her.   
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

*'"If You Seek For Eldorado!"'* 

McQueen looked back over his right shoulder, enjoying the view of Catalina and saw that the Windswept's slip was empty. He had come to see Jen, but she must be out. He kept on climbing, pleased how well the new leg worked. He couldn't tell any difference from his own, except when he saw the small scars from the skin graft that covered the anastomosis site. He knew that there were rods made of compressed bone in his tibia and fibula that attached the prosthesis to his leg, but he couldn't feel them. Dr. Kelly had explained more than once how his own, and banked muscles had been attached to the rods and his regenerated nerves were what moved the muscles, making the prosthesis a natural extension of him. 

It seemed like a miracle. He lost his foot and half of his lower leg, but it had all been replaced. Even the stem cell injections he had required while his nerves were regenerating were no longer necessary. Jen had taken care of that. Now, he needed to see Jen. 

As he came to the top of the cliff, he saw the house were Jen had grown up. It looked strangely quiet and empty. 

"Jen," he called out. "Jen, where are you?" 

The only sound that came back to him was the whistling of the wind. Walking up to the house he peered through grime covered windows. All the furniture was covered with dust covers and the doors were locked up tight. Patsy's carefully tended rose garden was overgrown with weeds. 

"Where is everyone?" McQueen called out. 

"There's no one here, Ty," Patsy's voice called from a long way off. 

"Where did they go?" McQueen looked around trying to find where the voice was coming from. 

"I'm with Frank, but that's not what you really want to know. It's Jenny you're looking for. She told you what she was going to do when the war was over. Don't you remember?" The voice chided. "She set sail weeks ago." 

"But the war isn't over," he argued. 

"That all depends on which reality you're in," the voice whispered with the wind. 

"Where are you? Why can you see me and I can't see you?" 

"Do you want to see me?" Patsy's voice was close to his ear. 

"Yes, I've got to find Jen," McQueen called out. 

"Why?" Patsy appeared before him, on the porch of the old house. "Why do you need to find Jenny?" 

"I don't know," he answered, as the older woman moved to the porch swing and sat down. 

"That's something you're going to have to figure out," she grinned at him. "You've got some hard choices in front of you, Ty. If you don't want to end up talking to me alone on this porch after the war is over, you're going to need to do something about it, and soon." 

"This is another dream, isn't it?" McQueen looked around him. The sun light was very bright off the Pacific, making it sparkle. Every color he saw was bright and fresh. "Why am I having all these dreams?" He shook his head as if to clear it. 

"I can only guess," the woman looked him in the eyes. "But I think it's because you're a man who deals best with that which is real. What he can feel, touch and smell. Ideas don't fall into any of those categories. When our ideas begin to change, especially those of who we are, we need an alternate reality to be able to look and study them freely. If we don't have that, our mind rejects, or buries them." 

"Colonel?" McQueen looked up at the sound of Cooper Hawkes' voice. 

"Coop, I'm so glad you could make it," Patsy smiled, as Hawkes climbed the steps of the porch. 

"Patsy!" The young in-vitro gave her a hug then moved over to shake McQueen's hand, "boy, am I glad to see you, Sir." 

"What are you doing here?" The Colonel was relieved to see him. "How are the others?" 

"Don't worry about them," Hawkes grinned. "We're taking care of it right now. I'm here because Patsy said that you needed me. She said it was in-vitro business." 

"Coop, I need you to remind the Colonel of the conversation you two were having, 'about the war being over'," Patsy cued him up. "What did you say Coop?" 

"I said that if it was over, 'my sentence would be up, I could go home.'" 

McQueen grunted, not liking the direction the conversation was taking. "Then I asked him, 'to what?' I still ask that." 

"Coop, what have you learned about home in the last year?" Patsy asked as she watched McQueen squirm. 

"I've learned that I didn't have one until I became part of the 58th," Hawkes smiled. "That it doesn't matter where I am, as long as I'm with the people I care about. That's what makes a place a home, not a building or land or possessions of any kind." 

"'Home is where the heart is,'" McQueen muttered. "Jen said that, one of the last times we talked." 

"She did?" Patsy smiled. "I didn't think she understood. I thought she had 'closed her door too well'." 

"Her door too well?" McQueen looked at Patsy. "Is that what you meant in that letter?" 

"You're getting the idea," Patsy smiled in approval. "But I suggest you look up the passage in Te-Tao Ching and while you're at it, look up the importance of 'that which has no substance'." 

"Why wouldn't Jenny understand?" Hawkes asked. "She loves you a lot," he looked at Patsy. "You're where her home is." 

"No," McQueen interrupted. "She told me she couldn't come back here. Catalina wasn't her home anymore. What did she mean?"   
  
"I can't give you the answer to that, only you can figure that out," Patsy looked straight at him. "Ty, she is a natural-born who was raised by an in-vitro. I'm afraid that she grew up with many of the emotional handicaps that we have. I'm sorry, I didn't have the skills to teach her otherwise. Sure, she and I learned about love. The kind of love that a mother has for a child or that two sisters have for each other, but I could never teach her about the love of a man for a woman. The only pattern she had for that was her father. What he taught her was that if a man and a woman loved, the end results would be pain. Then he added to that, by making her feel that no man could ever love her. To be fair to Professor Kirkwood, I think he did that in an attempt to keep her from feeling what he felt when Emma died. I wish I'd met Frank when I was younger. It would have made all the difference in the world, and saved Jen so much hurt." 

"What does that have to do with her not going back to Catalina?" McQueen looked around, sometime in the last minute Coop had disappeared. "And why are you telling me all this?" 

"I think you know the answers to those questions," Patsy smiled and began to grow indistinct. "Just remember what I've told you. It's the key to her feelings. She can be a hard woman to convince sometimes." 

"Patsy, wait," McQueen called out. 

"Remember, Ty, choices, hard choices!" Patsy's voice spun back at him. "Ask yourself, then answer, 'where is your home McQueen, where is your home'?'" 

The Colonel turned over in his sleep as the last of his dreams ended. Somewhere in the back of his mind they were filed away. Now he had to rest and get his strength back, there was work to be done. This time he wasn't going to attempt to bury his thoughts. Jen had been right when she said it was a waste of energy to have to always bury things instead of learning to live with them. One advantage of the trach tube and being unable to speak was that it gave him plenty of time to think.   
................................... 

Planet 2063 Yankee September 4, 1800 hours 

They had all moved into the small, well concealed cave where Shane and 'Phousse had been hiding. From the outside it looked like a small crevice in the cliff, but it was really an opening two feet by five, that widened to a cave. The breeze from the lake helped keep it from getting too hot during the day. Jenny was beginning to think she was destine to spend the majority of the war in a cave of some sort or other. 

"How's she doing, Jenny?" Shane looked up worriedly from the fire she was tending. She couldn't get her mind off what had happed to Paul and the Colonel. Thank goodness, Nathan had gotten Kylen and the rest of the POW's back to the Saratoga. That was a small piece of good news to try to balance out the loss of the two men. 

"Vanessa took a bad hit to the head," Jenny sat beside Shane. "I think she may have a small subdural hematoma. I can't be sure without a scanner." 

"I checked her forehead, the bump doesn't look that bad," Shane argue with the doctor. 

"If there's a bleed, it can be on the opposite side of her head than the main injury," Jen moved into lecture mode. "When she hit her head going forward, the brain hit against the front of the skull, then bounced back, and hit the back of the skull. If it happens with enough force, then two injuries can result. Often, the second is the worst of the two." 

"But 'Phousse was awake," Vansen was filled with guilt. "Even with the damage to her wrist, she's the one who got the emergency beacon going. She could hardly see, she was so dizzy, but she talked me through stripping pieces from the radio and getting the beacon working. She has to be all right!" 

"Shane take it easy," Nathan called out from his position at guard duty. "This isn't your fault. I know what it was like piloting a troop carrier through the atmosphere of this planet, I can only imagine how hard it was for you to land that cockpit. It's amazing you aren't both dead." 

"Like Paul, you mean?" Shane leaned her face in her hands too tired to even think. "When she wakes up, don't tell her about Paul. She thinks...she thinks....," Vansen looked up at Jenny. "She told me just before she blacked out that Paul was talking to her. Telling her to hold on...to live. Was that just because of the hit to the head?" 

"Shane," Jen put her arm around her friend and spoke quietly, just between the two of them. "Sometimes in moments of great stress, we hear, or think we hear, people who are important to us. Those voices, weather our imagination, or what ever they are, help us to do what needs doing. 'Phousse isn't going crazy." 

"You've heard voices like that?" Shane whispered. 

"Yes," the older woman mouthed as she hugged her friend. "I don't think I would have survived Kordis if I hadn't. But there's good news about Vanessa, too. I've set her broken wrist. It should heal without any problems." Jenny kept her arm around Shane as she spoke. "The marks left by her safety harness lead me to believe she may have some bruised, possibly broken ribs. I've strapped them, to make her breathing easier. We need to give her time to heal. Sometimes waiting is the best medicine, though at the time it seems like the hardest thing to do." 

Connelly and Hawkes had returned from scouting the area with a helmet full of berries and two rabbit-like animals. The meat was cooking, and everyone was looking forward to eating. 

"That sure smells good," Mitch smiled as Coop divided up the food. 

"It beats k-rations," Shane grinned, then gasped as she remembered a dinner when k-rations had tasted like a feast. 

"It's okay Shane," Nathan patted her arm. "Paul would hate it if you couldn't look back at the good times and be happy about them." 

"It takes some getting used to. I was so sure everyone made it back but us," Shane pointed to herself and 'Phousse. She searched her mind for anything to change the subject, "how long will it take us to get back to the ISSCV?" 

"Any chance we can bring it to us?" Jenny asked as she pushed her food around her plate in an attempt to look as if she was eating. "I don't want to take Vanessa over that mountain, if we don't have too?" 

"Bringing it here isn't the problem," Hawkes looked over to West. "What do you think Nathan, can we find a place to park that thing?" 

"It'll fit on the beach," West commented. "But we can't keep it there for long, there's no cover. I doubt Ross will have the Saratoga back here for at least six more days, maybe longer. When he does get back we need to be ready to take off." 

"Tomorrow at first light we should scout around and find a place where we can hide the carrier," Mitch commented. 

"Coop and I can go back for it, as soon as we know we can hide it on this side of the mountain." Nathan looked around the group. "Mitch, you stay with Shane, 'Phousse and Lady-Doc." 

"Nathan, I'd like to get a better look at that area where we found the dead AI," Mitch suggested. "What if you and I went back, did a little scouting on the mountain, then headed here with the ISSCV?" 

"What dead AI?" Shane shivered at the thought of the artificial beings that killed her parents. "I haven't seen any signs of Chigs or AI's since we crashed." 

"We found a Felicity unit with a drained power cell," Coop filled Shane in on what had happened. Mitch didn't miss the look that passed between the three Wildcards as they talked about the last time they had found one of those units with a similar problem. 

"I think Mitch and Nathan should be the ones to go," Shane spoke like Captain Vansen for the first time since she had been found. "Coop, Jenny and I'll stay here with Vanessa. First things first though, we need to secure a hiding place for the craft before we bring it here. If we can't do that we'll need to move our base of operations." As she talked, Shane turned toward the Doctor, "Jen, when do you think Vanessa could travel?" Vansen didn't miss the way the older woman winced at her name. 

"A..well," Jenny found her voice. "We could rig a stretcher and carry her anytime we had to. It's not ideal, but if that's the only way, then we'll have to do it. 'Phousse isn't walking over that mountain anytime soon. Please excuse me, I need some fresh air." The older woman pasted a smile on her face as she put down her partially eaten dinner and left. 

"What was that all about?" Shane watched Jenny's back as she moved out of the cave. "What'd I say?" 

"I think it's because you called her 'Jen'," Hawkes whispered. 

"But," Shane shrugged, confused. "She used to like it when we did that." 

"Did she?" Nathan moved close to her. "Jenny's been quiet and grim the last few days. The change in her......well, I'm not sure I want to know how deep it goes." 

"Yeah," Coop nodded. "You didn't see her that night, after everything went to hell, we did. The Colonel..." Hawkes took a deep breath so he could go on. "I heard in Sickbay that when they brought the Colonel in, with part of his leg blown off, he wanted her to be the one to operate on him. He said he trusted her." 

"Oh God," Shane whispered. "She and McQueen are friends. How could he ask her to do that? How could she turn him down, if he asked?" 

"She didn't turn him down, but she hasn't been the same since that night," Nathan continued. "She came to our quarters after it was all over," he could only shake his head at the memory. "Between doing as McQueen asked, hearing about Paul and the two of you, she was so fragile I was afraid she'd break." 

"But she didn't," Coop shook his head. "The next morning she took on Ross to get this rescue mission going. She may have looked fragile on the outside, but there was something made of steel on the inside of her. It drove her and everything else onward." As he said the words, his memory was jogged, something Jenny had said months ago, something about......*"it takes a hot fire to temper strong steel, and McQueen is made of the strongest I've ever seen."* The young in-vitro looked out into the dark. In that moment he knew! 

"Is she safe out there?" Shane looked toward the entrance of the cave. 

"I got my eye on her," Mitch Connelly smiled back from his position at guard duty. "Don't worry about her Captain, she told me once she likes to hear the sound of the sea. I guess the waves on that big lake over there are making her feel right at home." 

"Maybe I should go out there....." Shane started to get up when Nathan lay a hand on her shoulder. 

"Give her some time. Mitch'll keep an eye on her." 

Jenny sat concealed in the bushes by the cliff, staring out over the water 20 feet away. *"I've got to get a grip on myself,"* she thought as the two moons rose, casting an eerie light on the water. *"Either he's coming back or he's not, either way I need to deal with it."* she bit her lip as she worked through her options.   
  
*"I'll be back, Jen,"* Ty's voice rumbled in her ear. *"You don't think this is over do you? Now go to bed, it's much later than you think."* His soft voice rang in her head, as she moved quickly back to the cave. 

*"At least when she'd been on Kordis, and she'd heard him talking to her, he hadn't talked in riddles!"* she thought as she passed Mitch Connelly at the entrance, and joined the others who were sleeping toward the back. Her last waking thoughts were, maybe this time I am cracking up! 

In those early morning hours, when it's always darkest, the sound of the waves pounding on the sand filled Jenny's dreams. They took her away to a place where all things are possible. She was on her boat, the sails were stretched taught from a strong wind, that drove the craft over a blue ocean. She could feel a man standing behind her, his hands gripping hers lightly on the wheel. When she turned her head to rub her cheek against the arm that was wrapped around her, she could smell Hammerhead fuel and sandalwood aftershave. 

"Ty?" She murmured in her sleep. 

"Easy there, Jen," a deep voice quieted her. 

"Love you," she smiled. 

An awkward hand patted her shoulder, until she fell into a quiet sleep. Cooper Hawkes, watched the Doctor carefully until he was sure she was sleeping soundly, then moved back to his place at guard duty. When the young Marine had heard her start to murmur, he was glad he had chosen the early morning watch. He had decided yesterday it was fitting that he be the one to keep her secret. So keep it he would, until the man came back, who the secret really belonged to.   



	6. Ch: 6 The Bridge To Forever

ch6.html All characters and plot devices that are taken from Space: Above & Beyond are the property of it's writers, producers and the owners of the series. They are used without permission. No copyright infringement intended.   
  


CH: 6 THE BRIDGE TO FOREVER 

*The Moving Finger writes; and , having writ,   
Moves on; nor all your Piety nor Wit   
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line   
Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it.* 

September 7, 2064, Planet 2053 Yankee - 1300 hours 

Nathan and Mitch had been gone for two and a half days. Finding an area to land the ISSCV had been easy, but Coop and Shane were kept busy building camouflage, while Jenny stayed with 'Phousse. The sick Marine moved in and out of consciousness. Each time she woke up, she was staying awake longer and longer, but she was weak and confused. 

"Jenny?" Shane called as she came through the thick underbrush and down the trial to the beach. She found the Doctor sitting in the mouth of the cave, watching the waves, "how's Vanessa?"   
  
"Shhhhh," the older woman looked over her shoulder. The young Marine was resting a few feet away, in the protection of the overhang of rock. "She's sleeping quietly." 

"No more nightmares?" Shane frowned as she sat beside Jen. "I've really been worried about her." 

"I'm taking good care of her," Jenny smiled, but was afraid that Shane saw through her concern. 

"But whose going to take care of you?" The Captain stepped into the cave and came back with Jen's Angry Angel hat. "You need to wear this when you're outside, you're getting sunburned." 

As the Doctor reached for her hat, Shane held it for a moment and looked closely at the Angel insignia, "I thought you said I needed my hat, Captain?" Jen raised her left eyebrow, daring the other woman to make a comment. 

"Please, Jenny, I have to know about that night?" Shane whispered. She knew that something horrible had to have happened or the older woman wouldn't be wearing the Angel patch again. "Coop won't talk about it and there wasn't anytime to talk to Nathan. Tell me what happened? Where did it all go wrong?" 

"You heard the facts the night we found you," Jenny shrugged. "I'm not sure what else I can tell you." 

"Screw the facts!" Shane's voice shook. "Tell me what Nathan and Coop know, that they aren't talking about. The Colonel's never coming back is he? I can't think of anything else that would make you wear that patch again!" 

"He is, he has to!" Jenny gasped. "The patch has nothing to do with McQueen." Was it a lie? She hoped not. "It's for me, and me alone!" As the afternoon grew late, she told Shane everything she knew about the night that ended in disaster for the Wildcards. Though she tried to talk calmly and factually, she was afraid that emotions slipped through too often. 

As Shane sat and listed to the Doctor, she wondered if the other woman knew how graphic a picture she was painting of that terrible night. It made the Marine realize how much worse it had been for the three that were left behind.   
........................... 

Ten klicks away, at a higher altitude, and in much rougher terrain, West and Connelly, were following a twisting trail through a wooded area. 

"Nathan," Mitch whispered as he peered around the next bend in the trail. "Look at that," below them on a small plateau was a two-building compound. 

"This place has that utilitarian, AI look about it," Nathan looked through the binoculars again. "Nothing is moving down there. Lets go in closer." 

The two men took their time covering the half klick distance to the power grid that surrounded the buildings. 

"There's still power running through this thing," Mitch checked his instruments. "I'm not sure I can shut it down from here. Any ideas?" 

"Yeah," West pointed twenty feet away. "Look at that." By the section of the grid where guards usually stood, were the bodies of two AI's, who appeared to have died in a knife fight. They were laying on the ground locked together, each had a hand, with a death grip on a knife buried deep in the other's chest. 

"Damn, I would sure like to know what went on here," Mitch shook his head in disbelief. "Lets pull'em apart. Their bodies will shield us as we move through the grid." 

Each Marine grabbed an Elroy body and used it for safe passage through the power field. After an extensive search of the compound, all they came up with was more bodies. Some had died in fights, others, like the Faliciti they had found the other day, had just stopped running. 

"Nathan, look at this," Mitch called him over to the main computer. "There appears to be a program left running that's augmenting the magnetic field of this planet. It looks like these AI's were trying to shield their presence. The question is who were they shielding it from?" 

"It had to be from us," Nathan reasoned. "Chigs and AI's are allies." 

"Why would they bother?" Mitch argued. "We're in the Chigs' backyard. And it's not just radio signals that were shielded. We would have picked up the energy signature of this compound, if it hadn't been masked. I think these guys were hiding from the Chigs." 

"Can you download all the information on that thing, without interfering with, or disabling the shielding?" Nathan didn't know if Mitch was correct, but he wanted to take back all the information he could to the Saratoga. 

"Sure, but it'll take me longer to do it that way," Mitch began working. "Why don't you pull all the memory chips on the inhabitants of this little Paradise? Between those and the download, we should have a pretty clear picture of what happened here, once we run it through the ship's computers."   
............................. 

September 10, 2064 The Clara Barton 1030 hours 

The physical therapist was taking McQueen through his exercises for the forth time that morning. Each time, the woman demanded more of the Colonel. Each time the Colonel thought he had given as much as he could, then he would remember the dreams and the letter from Lars Morgans. He would take a deep breath and find the energy to push harder. 

"Very good, Colonel," the tiny dark haired woman complimented him. Her soft Mexican accent making her words sound musical. 

"You make an excellent Drill Sargent, Captain," McQueen covered his trach and his voice was a rough approximation of his own. 

"That is what my children tell me," Captain Eva Mata laughed. 

"How's my star patient doing?" Dr. Kelly came over to McQueen who was doing a cool-down walk on the treadmill." 

"As you can see Dr. Mike," Eva pointed to McQueen's leg, and to the read-out on her computer. "He uses it as if it were part of him, which is as it should be." 

"Colonel, is the numbness bothering you much?" The old Doctor watched McQueen's movements as if they were the most important thing in the world to him. 

"It takes a little getting used to," McQueen looked down as he kept pace with the treadmill. "I know I'm moving and putting weight on my right foot, but I can't feel it yet. At first I was worried it would interfere with my balance, but it doesn't." 

"That's good to hear. Any pain?" Kelly knew that there shouldn't be any, but often patients perceived pain because they knew they had organic rods where a limb used to be. 

"You mean other than what is caused by your Cpt. Mata?" McQueen glared at the woman who he knew was driving him hard for his own good. "Very little, just some minor muscle spasms." 

"Good, good, your progress is remarkable. You've gotten the best possible results I could have hoped for," Kelly smiled. "It's amazing how far we've come in seventy years." 

McQueen smiled, the old Doctor loved talking about his work, and the Colonel found the more he learned about the procedure he had gone through and all that was still ahead of him, the more secure he felt. Information was the key to understanding, and understanding was the key to independence, something the man on the treadmill needed badly right now. 

"It's hard to believe that the stem cell technique we used came from work being done in the late 20th Century in attempts to regenerate cardiac muscle after heart attacks." Dr. Kelly was fascinated by the crude efforts of those early doctors. 

"We were able to do one bone marrow harvest from you and use the stem cells from that to grow skin, alleviating the need to take grafts from your body. We also used those original cells as a template to create new ones so that we will be able to send you back to the Saratoga with samples. Your doctor can give you the stem cell injections you need for the further regeneration of your nerve endings." The Doctor made quick notes in McQueen's chart as he talked. "If it had been necessary to harvest bone marrow each time you needed more stem cells, you would be heading for Earth, not your ship." 

"How long do you think it will take for the regeneration process to be complete," McQueen worried that the Marines would take a grim view of him needing special medical treatment when on the front lines. 

"I can only give you an average. Everyone is different when it comes to things like this," Kelly shrugged. "I'm betting on it taking about six months until you have complete feeling back, but it will return a bit at a time, as individual nerves regenerate. Then, with the exception of the small graft scar over the anastomosis, you won't be able to tell one leg from the other." 

"What kind of duty restrictions will I be on?" 

"You still can't fly, but that's because of the MEF," Kelly shook his head. He knew what drove most pilots and he doubted McQueen was any different. "You'll need to be on 'ship' duty for the next few months until you have complete feeling in your new foot and the neoskin covering it. We did some creative nerve grafting, taking afferent nerves, those that take a message to the brain, from the intact part of your leg. We used those to replace some of the efferent ones, those that receive massages from the brain, that were lost in the explosion. It was imperative that you have normal function of the prosthesis, from the beginning. We didn't want any of the doner-transplanted muscles to atrophy. The feeling side of the coin can be worked on." 

"What's your definition of 'ship' duty?" He didn't think he was going to like this. 

"You need to stay out of hand to hand combat situations," Kelly needed to stress the seriousness of the situation to his patient. "Until that foot and lower leg is completely healed, you have to be careful. The last thing you want is necrosis of the neoskin or muscle tissue, either your's or the banked muscle we used. Since you lack feeling in that area, it would be very easy to do damage. 

"The skeletal parts of your prosthesis were attached very much like hip or knee replacements were seventy-five years ago, but instead of using titanium rods, we used ones made of specially treated banked bone tissue. Over time the 'organic' rods will fuse with what was left of your tibia and fibula. Becoming living bone, stronger than your own would have been. The foot part is made up of organic rods and titanium joints, covered with banked muscle and your regenerated skin." 

The Doctor stepped closer to McQueen to emphasize his point, "until you get feeling back to that area completely, you can damage it. Breakdown in tissue can cause infection and even gangrene. If that were to happen you could end up with an above the knee amputation, instead of the below the knee one you have now. Believe me, the prosthesis that we have for those aren't like the one you have! If things had gone a little differently you could have ended up with a computerized leg, like we talked about before surgery." 

"I get your point," McQueen shuddered when he thought what his life might have been like if he hadn't been so lucky. Before surgery he had been willing to live with anything that would get him back to the Saratoga, including an AI type leg, now he knew that it would have been much harder for him to accept. 

"I don't know what's going on out there on the Saratoga, and I'm sure I never will. You realize that I'm only releasing you now because I'm getting pressure from Frank Savage to do so. As it is, Frank can pressure all he likes, but I'm keeping you for one more day." The Doctor wanted to be sure McQueen was clear on his restrictions. "The General filled me in on your duties on the Saratoga. I've certified you for active duty aboard a space carrier, only. You are not, under any circumstances, to have any ground duty until all feeling returns. And I'm sure you're old enough that I don't have to tell you, 'none of that macho crap' so many soldiers like to pull in the gym!" The Doctor raised an eyebrow at the Colonel, putting him on warning. 

"Dr. Kelly," McQueen cleared his throat. "I appreciate all that you've done for me. Thank you very much." 

"You're very welcome. We were lucky the muscle implants responded so well, otherwise I'd have had to do my magic with computerized tissue," Kelly smiled at the Marine. "I've written out full instructions for Dr. Kirkwood. I see from some of her earlier medical notes that she's figured out how to keep you in line, so you should have a complete recovery." 

McQueen nailed him with a cool glance, wondering what Jen had written. 

"When Eva is done putting you through your paces, get some lunch. You have an appointment with Dr. Turek at 1400 hours," the older man smiled. "I believe he's planning on taking out your trach tube."   
.............................. 

Planet 2063 Yankee, September 10, - 1400 hours 

"Did you have a good nap?" Jenny looked up from notes she was quickly scribbling, to meet Vanessa Damphousse's dark eyes. 

"I keep dreaming about Paul," 'Phousse sighed. 

"I hope they're good dreams," Jenny moved closer and did a quick neuro check. 

"I guess they are," Vanessa chewed her lip wanting to ask Jen a question. "How long does it take?" 

"Pardon me?" 

"I'm sorry, Jenny I know you don't like to talk about...well...what happened to you, but how long does it take for the pain to go away?" Tears formed in the Marine's eyes. "This is nothing like when Sam broke off our engagement in the Spring." 

"I didn't realize you felt that way about Paul." Jenny sat back on her heels, absorbing the new information. "Are you sure you aren't feeling guilt mixed with the loss of a good friend?" 

"I'm sure," 'Phousse sighed. "We.....discovered that we had feelings for each other when we were on leave last spring. I never let him put his feelings into words. I was afraid talking about it would tempt fate." 

"Did you love him, Vanessa?" 

"I cared more about Paul than anyone else I've ever met," she sniffed, trying not to cry. "What I felt for him made my feelings for Sam seem childish." 

"I never realized," Jenny whispered. "I'm sorry." 

"Don't be sorry," 'Phousse smiled. "People die, feelings don't. I just wish I didn't miss him so badly, that's all." 

"I'd like to say that what you're feeling would be over in three hours or three weeks, or even three years, but I can't," Jenny looked a bit lost. "It takes time, and the amount of time is different for everyone. There are definite steps that a person goes through in the grieving process, unfortunately they're necessary to heal." 

"How long did it take you to go through them?" Damphousse needed answers. 

"Vanessa," Jenny caught her breath. "I can't tell you what you want know, really I can't." 

"Jenny, 'Phousse," Cooper Hawkes had stood, hidden, listening to the women talking. He had appointed himself Jenny's guardian, if that meant protecting her from Damphousse's questions, he would do just that. "It's beautiful out, why don't we take 'Phousse outside?" 

"Sure," Jenny was glad for the interruption. "Coop, give me a hand and we'll get her on her feet. Lets take it easy, one step at a time. I know you're still a bit dizzy, but getting some fresh air will make you feel much better." 

It was the height of false night, as the Marines called it, that odd time of day when the northern hemisphere of the planet had rocked away from the sun. It was like sitting on the beach at twilight, but instead of getting darker, it got lighter, then in a few hours true night would come. 

"I wonder if this is what the night sky looks like during the summer at the North Pole, back on Earth?" Shane asked as she moved aside to make room for Vanessa. 

"That's something else I'll have to put on my list of places to see," Jenny smiled. "The land of the Midnight Sun, and of course the northern lights, but that would be winter time." 

"You planning a long trip?" Coop looked over at her, as they helped 'Phousse sit down. 

"Not anytime soon," she answered cryptically. "There you go Vanessa, fresh air, sun not too bright, and a beach only a few feet away. What a vacation spot!" 

"How soon did you say Nathan and Mitch would be back?" Damphousse's' voice cracked, still thinking about Paul. Jenny had told her about his death and McQueen's accident the day before. Somehow hearing Paul's voice in her head made it easy for her to believe that he had died, but the loss of the Colonel seemed unreal. 

"They should be back anytime now," Coop was beginning to worry. His eyes met Shane's, both knew that the two men should have been back yesterday at the latest. If all went well with the Saratoga, Ross was due anytime. Too much was at stake to risk it looking for dead AI's. 

"It's so beautiful here, its hard to remember there's a war going on," Vanessa murmured. It was warm and humid, but there was a wind blowing that kept it from being too uncomfortable. They had rain everyday, but the cave stayed dry. Hawkes and Vansen were able to find game to keep them fed. 

"I bet we would make a pretty strange looking group," Shane smiled. "Sitting here with M-590's, wearing fatigue pants, t-shirts and no shoes. All we need is some Mexican beer." 

"You know what this reminds me of?" Jenny looked at them. "I've seen pictures from the 1960's of hospital bases in Viet Nam. Some of them looked a lot like this. Soldiers, sitting on the beach, getting a tan, with their weapon by their side." 

A rumble in the sky was heard from behind them. "Into the cave, Jenny, take 'Phousse with you," Shane grabbed her weapon as Coop grabbed his. "Do as I say, both of you!" 

Ten minutes later, the Marines returned with Nathan and Mitch following behind. The ISSCV was carefully hidden. All they could do now was wait until they heard from Ross.   
............................... 

The Clara Barton September 10 2064, 1900 hours 

"McQueen?" General Savage knocked impatiently on the door to the Colonel's room, then walked in. He found the man sitting at a table making marks on a blueprint and scribbling notations in the margins. 

"What's wrong, General?" McQueen knew from the look on the older man's face and his tone of voice that something had happened. 

"I've just heard from Maj. Gomez," he paced the small space of the room. "There has been an attempt on Pats' life. Whoever it was tried to make it look like a break-in. Thank goodness I left her well protected!" 

"Is she all right?" McQueen felt adrenaline pump through him, all thoughts of wind speeds and water displacement, quickly shoved aside. 

"Yes, thank God," the General sank into a chair. "But I'm heading back to Earth as soon as I can get a transport. I didn't tell you this before, but there've been killings of in-vitros from Pats' batch. Someone else is doing a search like ours, but instead of trying to find them for information, they're killing them." 

"Why the hell didn't you tell me.....Sir?" 

"I wanted you to focus on getting better," Savage's composure was returning, but he was still worried about his wife. "You're needed on the Saratoga. Too much is happening. Ross needs someone there he knows he can trust." 

"Who's behind all of this?" McQueen was confused. Something that had appeared to start out as simple prejudice, was getting more and more complicated. "If you knew there was a danger to Patsy, why did you stay here so long?" 

The General looked McQueen up and down. He could tell the Colonel was doing much better. The trach tube had been removed that afternoon and from all the reports Savage had gotten from the doctors, it seemed that McQueen would be ready very soon to return to duty. 

"I stayed because there are a few pieces of information that you haven't been given," the General watched McQueen's face close down. "It wasn't that I didn't trust you. What I am going to tell you, is known by only a few people. It's what I want you to take back to Ross. If you hadn't been well enough to travel soon, I'd have chanced blowing my cover to get the information to the Saratoga. It is imperative that this information gets to Ross and no one else." 

"I understand, Sir," for the first time since the peace talks, McQueen felt like a Marine again. 

"There is only one person who has the power do most of what has been done. That person is Secretary General Diane Hayden." Savage watched the Colonel absorb the information. "We...I, believe that she is acting in conjunction with Carleton Stryker. Somehow they are behind all of this." 

"What exactly do you mean by 'all of this'?" McQueen had worked with Hayden years ago in the In-vitro Rights Movement, but didn't know her well enough to form an opinion on her character. It wasn't until she was on the Saratoga after Chartwell had been assassinated, that he began to suspect that she wasn't all that she appeared to be. 

"She and Stryker had dealings with Aerotech in the early years. Hayden's were done openly, but Stryker's weren't. Sorry, I can't reveal my source on that. We believe that they knew about the genetic manipulation of in-vitros," Savage cleared his throat. He had been less than honest with McQueen about how far Longley's study had gotten. 

"So Jen was right?" McQueen's eyes turned icy. "Someone was breeding in-vitros who could be drug controlled." 

"Yes, I'm sorry, but we don't have any proof of who it was in Aerotech," Savage shook his head. "With E. Allan Wayne dead, I'm not sure there's anyway to get it. Stryker has connections with the AIU, Craig Rabwin in particular....." 

"Shit!" McQueen leaped to his feet as the implications sunk in. "Sorry Sir," the Colonel pulled his temper back under control. Only his eyes showed his anger over the loss of his people and the damage to himself done by that explosion. 

"Shit is right," Savage knew he was correct about McQueen as he watched the younger man control himself. The Colonel was back in the war, where he was needed. It didn't matter if Mike Kelly was keeping him for another day. The man had healed. "We have no way of knowing at this time what was behind the bombing attempt. But I do believe we know who." 

"To destroy a chance for peace to kill one woman?" It frightened McQueen to think of Jen as the focus of so much hate. 

"We don't know that. Some of the heat should be off of Jenny, as soon as we go public with the information in Longley's study. That should also help protect any older in-vitros. 

"I believe there was much more at stake when that bomb was placed. If the Saratoga had been destroyed as planned, it would have taken out a good portion of the high ranking military staff this side of Saturn. Wayne, Dr. Kirkwood and the Chig Envoy, would have been only a few of those killed. As it is, it did more than enough damage," Savage had McQueen's full attention. "We have no way of knowing how deep, or how far back the hate behind all this goes. And until we do, no one who was on that ship is really safe, and very few trustworthy." 

"What can I tell Jen about Patsy?" 

"I'm going to leave that up to you, if it were possible, I would say nothing," the General smiled. "But if we lie to her now and she finds out, God, help us. She already knows that we weren't honest with her regarding possible danger to others on the Saratoga. Assure her that I would give my life to protect Pats, but I think you understand that don't you?" The General looked the Colonel in the eyes, both saw the same look of determination and need.   
................................ 

The Clara Barton, September 11, 2064 - 2330 hours   
  
John Stark went to check on the Colonel one last time, before turning in for the night. He found his patient packing the few belongings he had managed to collect while on the hospital ship. 

"I figured I'd find you still up," Stark looked McQueen over carefully, the Colonel had been strangely quiet since General Savage left the day before. "You'll be heading back to the Saratoga tomorrow." 

"Yes," he turned to face the Corpsman. "Stark?" McQueen dug deep in himself. He needed to know something and only the Sargent could answer it for him. "All the time you were on Kordis? Did Jen.....Dr. Kirkwood, tell you how she felt about The Major?" 

"No Sir," Stark felt a surge of relief as he watched the confusion on the Colonel's face. 

"Then what made you say what you did, the other day?" 

"I could tell by the look on her face whenever she talked about you, how she felt," the Corpsman saw his words hit the mark as the older man froze. 

"How long have you known?" McQueen met the deep blue eyes of the Corpsman. 

"That you were the Major? I've wondered since I saw you with the bracelet," Stark shrugged. "But didn't know for sure until just now." 

"You're wrong, Stark, about what she feels. We're just friends." 

"Are you sure about that, Colonel?" The Corpsman shook his head at how stubborn the older man could be. 

"I've known her for four years," McQueen was getting frustrated, he wasn't sure who he was trying to convince, himself or Stark. "I would know how she feels about me." 

"Would you, Colonel?" Stark pushed. "I don't think she understood, so why should you? But no one who heard her tell those stories, while trapped in that dark cold cave, could miss what she was feeling. What I don't understand is why she thought you were dead." 

"When the Yorktown was lost, it was reported that all the Angry Angels died." McQueen gave him the short version, he was tired and didn't want to talk about this anymore, but couldn't stop himself. "Jen was notified before the clerical error was corrected." 

"Then, I guess the question is, how do you feel about her?" The Corpsman smiled and looked as innocent as a six year old caught with his hand in the cookie jar. 

"That, Sargent is none of your business," McQueen glared at the young man. 

"You're probably right, Sir," Stark turned to leave. As he reached the door, he looked over his shoulder at the troubled older man. "Colonel, if it was me, that's something I'd figure out!" He walked out and left McQueen glaring at the hatch.   
........................... 

September 12, 2064, The Saratoga - 1300 hours 

The familiar clank and bang of the Launch Bay doors sent a rush of excitement through McQueen. He was home. As soon as the words drifted through his mind, he began to reject them. Was the Saratoga really his home? Part of him resented all the doubts that were surfacing due to the dreams he had been having. He was a rational man, who didn't listen to dreams. Why was he doing so now? 

He had spent the trip from the Clara Barton trying to figure out what he would say to Jen when he saw her, and he still didn't have an answer. If he believed what Stark said, then she really did care about him. That thought led him down roads he would rather not travel. Closing his eyes, he could see Jen beaten and burned from the mugging in Houston. Rationally, he knew he couldn't have prevented it. Jen had said as much the night he had kissed her, but on a deeper level there were doubts. 

*"Ask yourself then answer, why wouldn't you let Jenny go to Kazbek?'* Shane Vansen whispered in his head. 

*"To keep her safe,"* McQueen's inner voice answered. 

*"But WHY?"* Shane nagged him, in his thoughts. 

Shanking his head and standing as the ISSCV door was opened, the Colonel clamped down on the questions. His mind racing to the present, *"I don't have time for this now!"* 

McQueen was greeted by the brightness in the Launch Bay. Even as his eyes grew accustom to the change in lighting he searched for the face of the woman who was causing him so much unrest. 

"Ty," Commodore Ross met him as he disembarked. "I never thought I'd see you on this ship again! You look good as new." Ross gripped his friend's hand. 

"Jen said I'd be back," he smiled and buried the disappointment that it was Ross standing across from him instead of Jen. "I should have learned by now to trust what she says. Any word on the Wildcards?" 

"We're heading toward 2063 Yankee now, to pick up the SAR team," this was what Ross had been dreading ever since he had heard McQueen would be back before they made the return trip. "They've been out of radio contact ever since the drop. Come to my office, we need to talk."   
........................... 

Commodore Ross' Office 

"She did what!" McQueen couldn't believe what Ross was telling him. "Glen how could you let her go. I thought the whole idea of her being on the Saratoga was to keep her safe." 

"Easy, Colonel," the Commodore was going to pull rank if need be. "When it became obvious someone was trying to take out the Saratoga, I figured she would be as safe, if not safer, with the 58th." Ross thought the excuse sounded lame, he hoped McQueen would buy it. 

"This wasn't what I meant by 'keeping her safe', when I wrote you," McQueen felt empty inside as he remembered what Butts' had said to him in his dream. Was he going to have to learn to live without them all? Maybe he would find himself a black hole and see just what Butts had found on the other side of Cerberus. "Jen DID give you my letter?" 

"Yes, she gave it to me," Ross smiled as he remembered what he had read. "Ty, you weren't here. You didn't see how bad it was for them, Jenny especially. I'm not sure they wouldn't have gone AWOL to find Vansen and Damphousse, if I hadn't let them go." 

"I thought I taught them better than that," McQueen glared. 

"Maybe, West and Hawkes," Glen shook his head. "But Jenny was the driving force behind everything that happened in those few hours. I'm still not sure how I let her talk me into it," Ross answered honestly, in hopes his friend would understand. "She was like you were at Christmas time, when the 58th was missing, only worse." 

"Was it very bad for her?" McQueen whispered, his back to his friend. 

"Bad?" Ross looked at the Colonel, not sure how much he could say without breaking Jenny's confidence. "Try hell!" Watching the other man clench his fists and take a deep breath, the Commodore plunged on, "how long have you been in love with her?" 

"Love?" He swung around, shaking his head. "No Glen, I care about her. I care about her a great deal, but love? No!" It shook McQueen to his foundation to think the 'L' word in connection with any one person. That word was so final, so irrevocable. "We're just friends." 

"Friends my ass," Ross muttered. Then nailed McQueen with a glare, "there's an old saying, 'love is friendship set on fire'. Think about it." 

"I don't have time to think about it now!" The Colonel argued, his expression turning to ice as he tried to bury any thoughts of Jen for the moment. It was too easy to picture her as she had been in his dream with Paul. Her slim body shaken with dry heaves as she huddled against the Sickbay wall, refusing to let anyone help her, keeping Chico and Joan at bay until she regained a bit of control. He refused to believe that he had seen any of the truth. He couldn't have hurt her like that! 

"You don't have time not to," Ross advised. Then backed off, "all right, you're off the hook for the moment," he shook his head, deciding it might be better not to force the issue, in case Jenny didn't make it back alive. "Now down to business. I know you have messages for me from Savage, then you need to report to Sickbay for them to certify you for duty. I'm going to need you in the next few hours while we sneak in to pull those wondering kids of yours off of 2063 Yankee."   
............................ 

2063 Yankee, September 12 2064, 2200 hours 

"Ross is four days overdue," Shane hated to be the one to bring up what was on everyone's mind. "We need to start thinking of some contingency plans." 

"The message we received was garbled," Mitch Connelly pointed out. "We don't know how badly the Saratoga was damaged. It may have taken longer for repairs than originally planned." 

"I think we need to face the possibility that She's too badly damaged to come back for us," Jenny Kirkwood spoke up for the first time that night. "Don't look so surprised! I was there too, you know? Granted, on the Saratoga, not Demios. That's how we filled those long silent hours when sleep wouldn't come; preparing to find you all died, but praying that it wouldn't happen. This isn't any different!" 

"Jenny's right," Coop patted her shoulder. "We need to prepare for the worst, but hope we don't need to use it." 

"Let's give it one move day," Shane nodded. "There's nothing we can do about it tonight and we're pretty well hidden." 

"I'm sorry Shane I didn't mean to pop off like that," Jenny knelt near the dark haired Marine and spoke quietly. 

"You only spoke what's been on all our minds," Shane smiled. "How's 'Phousse doing?" 

"Better, but I'm glad she slept through my little out-burst," Jenny reached for her utility vest and side arm. "I'm going to get some fresh air before I turn in." 

Shane just shook her head at the change in Jenny. Gone was the laughing woman whose company they had all enjoyed for the last year. In her place was a determined grim woman, whose only objective was to keep them all alive. 

Jen sat in her usual place against the cliff, watching the waves. Tonight it didn't give her peace. 

"I had almost given up hope that you'd come tonight, Carbonite," the scratchy voice of an AI caught her off guard. "Drop the gun!" 

"What do you want?" Jen whispered, adrenalin pumping through her, as she turned and faced the barrel of an M-590. 

"All of you dead!" He grinned at her. "Don't even think of calling out to the others. Now, do as I said, drop the gun. Then you're going to take me to the cave." 

"Go to hell!" 

"Little Carbonite, I know all about hell. This virus you people implanted has made me feel things I never imagined," he slung his gun over his shoulder as he grabbed her by the neck. Pulling her close he whispered in her ear, "I've learned about hate, revenge and the joy of killing." 

"We didn't implant any virus," Jen gasped, as she tried to peel his hand off her throat. 

"One Carbonite is much like another," he laughed. "Now you can pay for what the others have done. And I'll teach you all I've learned about hell, as you watch me kill your friends, if you don't do as I tell you." He ran his finger up and down her arm, causing her to shiver. "I'm a Lance-OH model, we were created for pleasure. I never got any pleasure from the touch of Carbonite skin, but watching you quiver in fear is showing me all that I've missed," he laughed quietly. 

"You're going to kill us anyway, why should I cooperate?" Jenny dragged what little air she could into her lungs as her left hand pulled on his fingers at her throat. The movement brought Ty's k-bar close under her right hand where she was holding tight to her left wrist. 

"I can make you beg me, to let you call to them," he smiled down at her. "Remember, there's dying, then there's dying," the AI laughed. "Your choice Little Carbonite, do they die quickly or slowly? You, I'll save 'till last. I may die of this virus like the rest, but I'll get to enjoy your fear and anguish as they suffer." The thoughts of the pleasure he would gain from watching the humans die slowly at his hand hypnotized the Lance. 

"Stay in the cave!" Jenny rasped out. Hearing a familiar deep voice in her head whisper, *"you can do it, Jen, I'll help you,"* she pulled the k-bar from her utility vest and thrust it backhand into the AI's chest. The Lance had been distracted and she was taking full advantage of it, praying all the while that she would live long enough to kill it. 

The Lance couldn't get to his gun, pulling her close had been a tactical error. He was in reach of her knife. He had miscalculated badly, she was fighting him. The sensation of circuits being cut as the large knife sliced through him a second time, made him move even slower. He had forgotten how the virus shorted out his reflexes and made clear thinking hard. He raised his fist and swung at her, but as he knocked her off her feet, his motherboard exploded when he was hit by the projectile from an M-590. 

"Jenny!" Coop called, as he lowered his weapon and ran to her side. The shaking woman, had slid to her knees, as she gripped the k-bar in both hands, ready to continue the fight. "What the hell happened?" 

"He was here," Jenny hugged McQueen's knife close to her, not wanting to let go of it, still needing to feel the power of the man it belonged to. "He was waiting for me. He was going to kill all of you." She looked up, surrounded by Wildcards. 

"Be careful with the k-bar," Shane reached for the knife Jenny gripped close to her. "Please, you're going to cut yourself if you're not careful." 

"No," Jen whispered as she turned her body away, still holding on to the knife tightly. 

Coop knelt and touched her hands as they held fast to the k-bar, "let me help you," he spoke quietly, then carefully unwrapped Jenny's fingers from the knife. As he turned it over to return it to the Doctor's scabbard the moonlight caught on McQueen's initial's on the back. "Here you go Jenny," he smiled. "It's back where it belongs. Lets get you into the cave, where you belong." 

"Were you out of your mind?" Shane lectured the Doctor once they were safe inside again. "That thing was a good foot taller than you. What were you thinking?" 

"I was thinking that he was going to kill you as you came running out of here to help me," Jenny shouted, still shaken from hearing McQueen's voice echoing in her head moments ago. "And if I led him back to the cave like he wanted, he would have killed you before you knew he was behind me. I've come too far to have you die now! Any of you! What did you think this mission was all about anyway?" She wiped frantically at tears that rolled down her face as reaction set in. 

"Any sign that he had the virus?" Connelly interrupted the arguing. 

"He said he did, and that we had implanted it," Jenny thought back over what the AI had told her. "He had been watching us for a while, because he was expecting me to go out there." 

"I'm going to see if there is anything left of his memory chip," Mitch picked up his weapon and micro tools. 

"Wait," Shane called out. "I'm going to watch your back. If one of those things is out there, we can't be sure there aren't more," she needed to cool down. The Marine knew she had lost her temper with Jenny, but the thought of the smaller woman taking on the huge AI made her blood boil. "Nathan, you guard the entrance, the password is sugardirt." 

"Jenny, you'd die for us, wouldn't you?" Damphousse's question caught the older woman off guard. "That's why you came." 

"I guess I've been hanging around you Marines too long," Jen shrugged, trying to make light of Vanessa's observation. 

"No, it's more than that," 'Phousse watched the older woman fidget. "It's something you need to do, but I don't understand why?" 

"Please, Vanessa, just leave it alone," Jenny didn't have the strength to keep anything hidden tonight. "It's been a long day, we all need to get some sleep......" The radio crackled to life, "'Phousse, can you read that signal?" 

"Morse code," she sounded more alive than she had since she and Shane had ejected days ago. "Yes I've got it. '5-8, 5-8, Saratoga in range'," she wrote quickly as the message continued. "This doesn't make any sense. 'The piper has been paid, repeat, the piper has been paid.' Then the coordinates." 

"That's Ross," Jenny cried out recognizing what she had said to him days ago. "It makes sense to me," she smiled as she remembered what she told Ross. 

Jenny's hands shook as she prayed them back to the Saratoga, a trip that seemed to take forever. West and Vansen made the ISSCV dance in an attempt to evaded Chig patrols. Three times Hawkes and Connelly fought off attacks, before they were met by a Hammerhead escort that Ross had sent out. The guns echoed through the small ship as Jenny stayed with Damphousse, who was still having problems with dizziness and bouts of nausea. The mad dash for the ISSCV, followed by the rough flight made the Lieutenant's symptoms worse. When they had received Ross' message they knew that they had to leave quickly. 2063 Yankee was located too close to the Chig home world for the Saratoga to remain hidden long.   
............................ 

The Saratoga Launch Bay, September 13, 2064- 0910 hours 

"WOO-YAH," Hawkes called out as the small craft was secured. The echo of the Launch Bay doors was still loud in their ears, when the green light went on indicating pressure had been restored to the bay. Mitch was opening the ISSCV door a second later. 

"Make a hole," Corpsman Win Trosper's voice could be heard, as he and another Corpsman brought a stretcher to 'Phousse's bunk. "Hey, Lady-Doc it's good to have you back," he grinned and winked at Jenny. 

"It's good to be back, Win," she sighed as she helped them transfer Vanessa to the stretcher. "I'll be down to Sickbay as soon as I gather my things. Give this to whoever is in charge today," she handed over the chart she had been keeping on her patient. 

Standing and stretching she pulled her pack over one shoulder and the M-590 she had been carrying over the other. Stepping out of the ISSCV it took her eyes a moment to adjust to the bright lights of the Launch Bay, but there was no mistaking the happy sounds of a small crowd of people, ten feet away from her. Looking up she shook her head in disbelief. "Ty?" she thought as she froze in her tracks, unable to take her eyes off the scene in front of her. 

The stretcher carrying Damphousse was stopped by McQueen's side and he was holding tightly to one of her hands. Shane had just hugged him around the middle and he was putting a tentative arm around her shoulders. Coop and Nathan, not to be outdone, put there arms around Shane and began slapping their commander on the back. Jenny laughed at the bemused expression on McQueen's face. He definitely wasn't used to male bonding rituals! 

At the sound of her laughter, she saw him look up. Suddenly, her world was reduced to one man. The crowd around them seemed to melt away as she watched him disengaged himself from the group of excited young people, and walk with his customary cat like grace to stand in front of her. She felt his eyes on her as they swept over her, taking in her hat, then the Angel patch on her shirt. 

Without a word McQueen did the only thing he could do. He slowly raised his right hand, as he smiled at the Angel in front of him. Jenny's hand came up in a mirror of his. As they touched and their fingers meshed, he whispered, "not even death can defeat an Angry Angel." 

"I can't believe you're back so soon," her eyes locked with his. Both had forgotten they were still gripping hands. "You look....wonderful!" 

"I feel wonderful......now," inside of him a little voice was yelling, *"be careful, McQueen, don't show too much."* For once in his life he didn't listen to that voice, he just....acted. "Though, all of you gave me quite a scare," he whispered as he stepped closer. 

"Gloria Collins didn't think that word was in your vocabulary," Jen giggled as she remembered a dream from weeks ago. 

"Hump....." McQueen was about to say more, when the Saratoga rocked from gun fire and the room came back around them. Both people dropped their hands and stepped back, aware they had been holding tightly to one another in the middle of a crowd. "I need to get back to the bridge. I'll see you later?" 

"Sure," Jenny smiled. "I need to get to Sickbay and look after 'Phousse."   
........................... 

Sickbay 1030 hours 

Jenny breathed a sigh of relief, only Vanessa Damphousse was remaining in Sickbay, and that would be for only a short time. Everyone else had passed their physical, even Shane. She knew she needed to clean up, but she was anxious to get a look at the specs on McQueen's prosthesis. 

Chico Voss found Jenny at the computer in their office, a few minutes later. "Dr. Kirkwood," he smiled. "I'm glad to see you waited for me, it's your turn now, exam room three is empty." 

"Pardon?" Jen looked up from the material she was reading. 

"I said it's your turn," he reached around her and turned off the computer. "You need to be checked out by a doctor." 

"I do not! I'm fine." 

"That's an order, Doctor," Chico held his ground. 

"You can't order me around, I out rank you," Jen fought back. 

"Maybe, but I'm your doctor of record," he glared at her. "Room three, Joan Brill is waiting for you. I'll be there in a few minutes." 

An hour later Jenny punched the code to her quarters. She wasn't sure when the sounds of fighting had stopped, but it had been sometime while she was being bawled out by Chico. She wanted to be angry with him, but it was hard when she knew he was right. She had let herself get badly run down. She needed sleep and to gain a bit of weight. The AI hadn't broken any bones when she fought with him, but she had some colorful bruises to show for her efforts. 

After a quick shower, she crawled into bed, and reached for the sweat shirt she kept hidden. She pulled it close and buried her face in it as she wondered how much she had given herself away in the Launch Bay. "*Oh well, it's too late now,*" she thought as she fell asleep, holding on to McQueen's shirt.   
......................... 

Ross' Office 1300 hours 

"What now, Sir?" McQueen looked at his friend and commanding officer. 

"The Saratoga is running under radio silence, maybe that'll help us keep them off our backs," Ross looked carefully at the map of the area around 2063 Yankee. "We're still in their playground. The last report I had was that sector 27 is the cut off line for no man's land. That should take us another day." 

The men's strategy session was interrupted by someone knocking on the hatch. "Come," Ross called out and was surprised to find Vansen, Hawkes, West and Connelly. "It's good to see you made it back," the Commodore smiled at the young Marines. 

"It's good to be back," Shane smiled. "We found something very interesting on 2063Y and thought you should see it." 

The Marines told them about the hidden AI village, the drained power cells and the odd encounter Dr. Kirkwood had with the Lance OH model just before they had been picked up. Connelly added any information he had observed about the virus. 

"Here are the memory chips from all the dead AI's we found," Mitch opened his pack, showing the men what they had. "We've also brought back a downloaded copy of all the information on the main computer at the compound and a few of the 'drained' power cells." 

"Sir, this isn't the first time we've run into this," McQueen was remembering the planet Minerva and what had happened with Paul. "But it was on a much smaller scale." 

"Can we run those chips through our computers without the virus getting into our system?" Ross looked at Connelly, since he seemed to know the most about the technology behind what had been found. 

"I don't know, Commodore," Mitch frowned. "I'd like to try. We can rig an independent system, so the ship isn't in danger. Any chance Cpt. Fisher could help me out with this? She's a whiz with computers." 

"Lt. Connelly, tell her this has a priority from me, she'll help you," Ross smiled at the young man. "Is there anything else you can tell me about the virus?" 

"You've got all the information I've got on it at the moment," Connelly shrugged. "You may want to talk to Dr. Kirkwood, she was the only one of us to have any direct contact with an infected AI that was still functioning." 

"Keep all of this on a need to know basis," the Commodore looked stern. "Connelly, you and Fisher set up a lab and between the two of you send me the names of three or four people to help you. I need to okay your team before they start working with you. Good work people, dismissed." 

After the young Marines left, Ross looked over at McQueen, "what's your take on all of this, Ty?" 

"AI's hiding from the Chigs, it doesn't make much sense," McQueen shook his head. "And this thing about the virus, I don't know what to think. When we ran into those two AI's on Minerva it appeared as if it was an isolated incident, now I'm not so sure." 

"If we were careful, we could make it to Minerva in about two days," Ross muttered. "Can you give me a good reason why we should go there?" 

"Yes Sir, I can," McQueen smiled as he remembered an eccentric British Officer who was hidden there. "Major Cyril McKendrick." 

"You think he's still alive? That area has seen heavy fighting," Ross pulled up a copy of the confidential report McQueen had submitted to him about the British Major. 

"If anyone could survive that, he could," McQueen remembered the determination in the older man's eyes as he argued to be left behind. 

"Hell, how many times can they Court Martial me?" The Commodore rolled his eyes. "As far as Command knows the Saratoga is still hiding, doing repairs, if we pull this off, maybe no one will look too closely at where we've been for the last week or so."   
....................................... 

Sickbay, September 13, 1430 hours 

McQueen looked around the hatch that led to Vanessa Damphousse's bay. The young lieutenant was resting peacefully. He breathed a sigh of relief that she was going to be all right. He had spoken with Chico Voss a few minutes earlier and was told that 'Phousse would be out of Sickbay soon, and back to regular duty, in another week or so. 

"Paul...." Vanessa muttered in her sleep. 

"You're having a dream," McQueen held her hand and sat beside her bed, understanding the hell dreams could play with a person's mind. 

"Colonel?" 'Phousse opened her eyes, surprised to see the older man sitting beside her. "It's hard to believe that you're really here. We were so worried about you. Jenny told us what happened at the peace talks. It's a miracle you're here." 

"A miracle?" The older man smiled at her, "'A meerracle and a missteree'." McQueen imitated W.C. Fields, with a grin. "I'm just glad you and Shane are safe." 

"Nothing seems quite real, yet," she closed her eyes for a moment, then looked her commanding officer over closely. "Were things very bad for you? You look different somehow." Damphousse studied him. She knew it was none of her business, but couldn't seem to stop the words from pouring out. "Physically you appear fine, but something is wrong. I can see it in your eyes." 

"I've been through a lot....."McQueen started to tell a lie to cover what 'Phousse was seeing, but he stopped, realizing that if anyone could help him understand the significance of the last few days, it was this sensitive young woman. "What do you know about dreams?" 

"More than I'd like to right now," her eyes filled as she thought of the times in the last few days she had dreamt about Paul Wang. 

"You were dreaming about Paul just now, weren't you?" McQueen sighed as he remembered having similar dreams. 

"Yes Sir," Vanessa smiled. "I know it sounds crazy, but I've been dreaming about him since the crash. I kept hearing his voice telling me to hold on, to live, that help was coming." 

"I did do," McQueen admitted quietly. 

"Pardon?" 

"I was dying and Paul made me fight to live," the older man whispered. "He said he was dead, but that I had to live. It seemed so real." 

"Sir, do you think it was really him?" 

"It couldn't have been.....but...?" Part of McQueen wanted to believe that the experience he had with Paul had been real, but if he did, it would add validity to his other dreams and that was too much for him to accept. 

"What did Paul say that has you so worried," 'Phousse could sense his terrible doubt and unrest. 

"I didn't just dream about Paul, if I had, I could chalk it up to worry. It's the other dreams that......are difficult," he shook his head as he thought about them. "I know I was recovering from surgery at the time, but they all seemed so real! I didn't tell the doctors, for fear they'd have me in a straight jacket before I said two sentences." 

"Where they frightening?" The young Marine was fascinated that the usually reserved Colonel would speak so openly. 

"No, not in the classic sense," his lips curved in a half smile. "No Chigs or AI's to fight, nothing as simple as that," he shrugging trying to make it seem as if it wasn't important. 

"You could talk to Jenny," Vanessa challenged. "She'd understand." 

"No, she's the last person I could ask about these dreams," the Colonel shook his head, afraid that Jen would understand too much. 

"I read up on dreams when I was having that problem last winter," 'Phousse thought back to the time the 58th had spent in the tunnels. "I was hoping that all the strangeness was somehow related to something I was dreaming about, but it wasn't." 

"What did you learn about them?"   
  
"The mechanics of dreaming is pretty straight forward. There are five stages to sleep," Damphousse explained. "Lets see if I can remember all this? Dreams occur most often during REM sleep, though there can be dreaming in stage 4 of the sleep cycle," she thought for a moment, then continued. "In REM sleep, the dreams are vivid, emotional and exciting. This's when sleep is related to the needs of cerebral stimulation, sorting and storing of information, committing new information and experiences to memory and general psychological coping. The dreams in stage 4 are more realistic and factual. At least that's what it says in the books I read on the subject." 

"I don't suppose you found a book that told you what they really mean?" McQueen sighed. 

"Dream interpretation? Only about a few thousand of them. Unfortunately, I don't think that it's the same for every person, no matter what all the books try and say," the young woman looked very sad. "For me, it's more important what a dream says on a personal level. I guess it goes back to psychological coping." 

"Or they could mean nothing at all?" He countered. 

"I hate to think that. I believe that when we sleep, our guard is down," Vanessa was sure this wasn't the answer the Colonel wanted to hear, but she respected him too much to lie to him. "To me a dream is my inner voice yelling in my ear." 

"As you said, a way of coping?" McQueen remembered what Patsy had said when he dreamt about her. 

"Yes," she nodded. "You could say that. I think it's a lot like intuition. All the little things our brain processes and we never realize are there, until the moment we need them." 

"There's no way of finding a definitive answer, is there?" The older man sighed as he thought about all the questions his dreams had posed. 

"Each person has to decide for themselves what a dream means, I think. Though, there's always what Edgar Allan Poe had to say," Vanessa smiled as she remembered Paul reciting poems from memory, late at night while they had been caught on Demios. 

"Poe?" McQueen looked up remembering words that drifted through fog, "'Over the Mountains Of the Moon, Down the Valley of the Shadow,'?" 

"Right poet," she whispered. "Wrong poem. 'Is *all* that we see or seem, But a dream within a dream?'" 

"Not a very happy thought," McQueen sighed, preferring reality to dreams. 

"Sir, you say these dreams weren't frighting, but they seem to have upset you." 'Phousse was back where she started. 

"It wasn't the dreams themselves, so much as the questions they posed, that bother me," he shook his head bringing himself back to the here and now. 

"Then maybe you need to find the answers to the questions," 'Phousse yawned, worn out from talking for so long. "Then you'll know if the dreams mean anything or not." 

"Maybe you're right," he squeezed her hand and stood to leave. "I almost forgot. When I dreamt about Paul, he wanted me to tell you something. He said, to tell Vanessa, that 'the face of heaven is so fine, that all the world is in love with night.' That both you and Shane would understand what he meant." 

"Oh God," she gasped as tears filled her eyes. "It was real. He really spoke to you." 

"No, it was only a dream," McQueen sat back down beside the sad woman. 

"No, Sir," She smiled at him with wet eyes. "At Christmas, Shane gave Paul a copy of Romeo and Juliet. Before we lit the engine to maneuver into the tail of the comet, he read that quote: 'And when I die, take him and cut him out in little stars, And he will make the face of heaven so fine, that all the world will be in love with night, and pay no attention to the garish sun.'" Taking a deep breath, she felt at peace for the first time since hearing how Paul died. "He always loved the stars. I think he wanted me to know that he's okay and is where he wants to be." 

"You really cared about Paul didn't you?" McQueen couldn't look any deeper into the significance of what had been said. 

"Yes Sir, I did. We cared about each other," Vanessa sighed as she thought of the time she and Paul had wasted. "Colonel, once when we were on Demios, Paul tried to tell me how he felt about me, but I stopped him. Now, I wish more than anything that we'd talked about our feelings. I'd give a lot to have just a few minutes with him, so we could have that conversation." 

McQueen sat frozen as he heard Winslow's words echoing in his head, *'there's a war on, you never know who is here today, but will be gone forever in a matter of hours.'*   
................................ 

Jenny's Quarters September 13, 1645 hours 

Jenny tossed and turned as she dreamt. She was back on 2063 Yankee, walking out of the cave. Instead of the Lance OH model waiting for her, she came face to face with Amy McQueen. A little voice whispered deep inside the sleeping woman, *"an AI would be easier to deal with than Ty's ex."* 

"You!" Jen gasped as the tall blond smiled at her. 

"Yes, me," Amy grinned. looking impeccable in a sun dress that showed off her tanned shoulders. "I wanted to thank you for taking such good care of TC, while I've been away." 

"I was only doing my job," the small Doctor felt very much at a disadvantage in her rumpled pants and damp tank top. 

"No, you did much more than your job," the older woman's cat like smile didn't reach her eyes. "You saw that he got the medical care he needed, but you also taught him about feelings. Now it's my turn to take over." 

"But..." Jen was at a lose for words. 

"Jennifer," the tall form of Professor Kirkwood moved beside Amy. "What do you think you're doing? That man belongs to this woman," he smiled at the blond. "He's confusing his gratitude for you as a doctor with real feelings." 

"But daddy, what about my feelings?" Jenny felt like a little girl again as she looked at her unmoving father. 

"Jennifer, this is what I've tried to teach you: feelings only hurt you." His harsh words had the power to reduce her needs to nothing. "This man does not love you!" 

"Leave, both of you, just leave," Jen called out in her sleep as she forced herself to wake-up. 

Splashing cold water on her face to try and drive the dream from her mind, Jenny stared at her reflection in the mirror over the tiny sink in her bathroom, hating the doubt she was feeling. "Damn him and damn her," she muttered as she ran wet hands through her hair. Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud knock. 

"Yes," she opened the hatch, and gave herself a quick mental shake to make sure she wasn't still sleeping, when she found Ty standing there. 

"May I come in?" 

"Sure," Jen pasted a smile on her face. "I can't get over how well the prosthesis is working for you." She watched him walk, trying not to think about the dream that lingered in her mind. "I went over Dr. Kelly's notes in your chart when I was....." 

"I didn't come here to talk about my medical needs," he interrupted her. He had come from his talk with Damphousse, something in him needing to see Jen. Now that he was here, he didn't know where to start. 

"Oh?" Jen took a few steps back. 

"General Savage sent you this letter from Patsy," he handed over the envelope he had been carrying for her. Using it to buy him time while he gathered his thoughts. 

"Thanks," she smiled. "There are pictures inside!" She quickly opened it and pulled out pictures from Patsy and the General's wedding. "They got married! Did you know?" She looked at McQueen and laughed, putting down the letter to read later. 

"It's kind of hard to miss," he grinned back at her. "Savage is wearing a wedding ring and the biggest smile you ever saw. Now you can go back to Catalina when the war is over," he probed as his eyes moved over her. She looked like she had just awakened, her tank top and running shorts still rumpled from sleep and her hair in damp curls as if she had just run wet hands though it. 

"No, Ty, that hasn't changed," She shook her head, knowing he wouldn't understand her need to get away and be alone until she could face a life without him. "But the war is a long way from being over." 

"There's something I need to tell you, but it's classified," McQueen turned serious. He had to get this out of the way before he could do anything else. 

"What's wrong?" The tone of his voice made her stomach clench. 

"A few days ago someone broke into the house on Catalina," he saw Jenny pale under her tan, and reached for her. "It was an attempt on Patsy's life, disguised as robbery. She's fine, Jen. Frank wouldn't let anything happen to her." 

"It's because of the DNA sequencing I found last spring isn't it?" 

"I'm sorry Jen, but that's classified." He looked at her worried expression. "Ideally you shouldn't have been told this much. Savage left the decision up to me, but I couldn't leave you in the dark." 

"Thank you," she leaned her forehead against him as he rubbed his hands up and down her bare arms. "Do you think she's safe?" 

"Frank Savage will keep her safe or die trying," McQueen knew just how the General felt. 

Neither the Colonel nor the Doctor thought it the least bit odd that they would reach for each other in times of distress. It was something they had discovered the night before Kazbek, and had perfected during the siege of Ixion. 

"This situation keeps getting worse and worse," Jenny looked up and met his eyes. "How many more heads can this dragon have?" 

"We may have found another one," he moved his hand over the bruised area of her shoulder and neck. "Ross is taking us back to Minerva to check on the AI virus. The Commodore has already talked to the rest of the 58th, but I know he wants your input as well." 

"Stop frowning, Ty," Jen whispered as she pulled away from him, realizing how easy it would be to depend on his touch. "What did you think I was going to do, let that Lance kill them, after going to the trouble of finding 'Phousse and Shane?" She shrugged, trying to explain the unexplainable. "It wasn't really that hard to overpower him," she remembered McQueen's voice in her head as he urged her to fight. "The virus slowed its ability to process information. No lecture, I've already gotten one from Shane." 

"That's not the point," McQueen used anger to cover the fear that ate at him when he thought of Jen taking on the large AI. "You shouldn't have been there in the first place!" 

"Ty, you told us they were alive," she whispered. "I couldn't let them call off the search." 

"You risk your life on things I said based on an hallucination?" 

"No," she corrected. "On faith, your faith that they were still alive and my faith in you." 

"That's the craziest thing I ever heard!" McQueen glared at her. 

"Please, I don't want to argue." Searching to change the subject, she looked through the pictures in her hand until she found one of a striking racing sloop. "Oh, look at this, it's the Black Gull, Lars finished it." 

McQueen gave up the struggle, and looked over her shoulder at the picture of the boat he had helped the old shipwright design, the year before. "Lars wrote me and sent some pictures, too. He said she'll take every race, once there's decent competition, again," he smiled. 

"That sounds like him," looking up at Ty, she had a jolt of memory. For one second she was standing on the Windswept and he was close behind her. All he would have to do was reach around her......She called a halt to her thinking, not sure where the memory came from. "Thank you for doing that for Lars." 

"He's the one who did most of the work," McQueen shook his head. "All I did was add a few principles of aerodynamics to the ideas that Lars already had." 

"You did much more than that. You believed in him," Jenny remembered both men being as excited as children over the building of that boat. 

"Of course," he looked at the sincere expression on Jen's face and was surprised. "Why wouldn't I?" 

"Not everyone would," Jenny smiled at the man beside her. "Magda told me that a long time ago Lars had a small boat building business. Then he ran into problems and lost everything, including his confidence. When my father met him, Lars was hanging around the docks in San Francisco doing odd jobs. My dad brought the Morgans to Catalina to take care of the house while he and mom were on the Lovell. Father seemed to have a talent for finding broken people and using them for his own convenience." Professor Kirkwood's words from her dream were echoing in her head. 

"Jen?" McQueen had never heard her use that bitter tone regarding her father. He thought the man certainly deserved it, but this was something new for her. "What's wrong?" 

"I'm sorry, I can't imagine where that came from," she turned from him unable to meet his eyes. Lingering memories of her dream making her doubt herself.   
  
"Are you all right?" He watched her worriedly.   
  
"Sure," she turned back to him, a breezy, open smile on her face, but her arms crossed tightly across her chest. "Did you know that Stan Turek is a sailor too? Ever since he saw the wonderful job Lars did putting the Windswept to rights, after I bought her, he's been trying to steal him from me." She talked brightly, trying to lighten her mood and take his probing eyes off of her. 

"I would hardly call the man who captained 'The Indomitable' to three wins of the America's Cup, just a sailor." McQueen laughed, remembering a number of conversations the two men had enjoyed during the Colonel's recuperation. 

"So, he told you?" Jenny nodded. "I'm surprised, Stan likes to keep a low profile about that outside of racing circles." 

"He told me that we raced against him once," Ty looked at the woman standing close to him. "I believe he said, 'you and that damn blond witch stole my breeze, and went away laughing.' He seems to think you have an ability to call up the wind at your command." 

"Ha! Talk about a sore loser. He and his wife were sailing her boat, The Cappo Queen, that day." She giggled, as she remember the race from Catalina to Newport Beach and how all the boats had been becalmed for over three hours. "He was just feeling put-upon because we used some of the tricks he taught me, against them. If you hadn't been so shy about attending the social functions that went with the races, you'd have met Stan long ago." 

"Jen," McQueen growled. "I thought you said you didn't want to argue." He had always believed that as an in-vitro, it would be appropriate for him to act as crew for her, but to be seen as her *date* at any of the yacht club parties, associated with the races, would put her in danger. "You know my feelings on the subject." 

"You never had me fooled," Jenny rolled her eyes and laughed. "You can't dance, that's the real reason we never went to those things." It was easier to think that, than the truth she kept buried: Ty didn't want to dance with her. 

"Hrumph," the Colonel snorted. He was caught in a crossroad of time. Go forward and leave behind all he had learned about prejudice or go back to the old way, where Jen would be forever out of reach. Taking a deep breath, he took a small step forward, "Stan had more to say about that day." 

"He did?" She was surprised the older sailor would remember one race so well. 

"Yes, he said you and I made a good team, that we compliment each other." The change in McQueen's voice took all the laughter out of her, as she turned to stare at him. "Did you miss me while I was gone, Jen?" 

"Of course, Ty," Jenny recovered as fast as she could. "We're friends and I was worried about your health, though I was a bit busy while you were gone," she tried to make light of the subject. 

"No, Jen, it's more than that," he took a step closer to her and watched her move back. "We've both been running from it, and you still are." 

"Oh, who said I was running?" Her chin in the air she would face him straight on, but hoped her emotions didn't crumble before she could get him out of her quarters. 

"I never pegged you for a coward!" He baited her. 

"You don't know me at all, McQueen," she took another step back as she felt her control beginning to unravel. "What's brought this on all of the sudden?" 

"How about almost dying?" He took another slow step toward her, only to have her move back. "Or almost losing you?" 

"Stop! Wait! Don't say something you'll only regret later." Jen gasped, laying two fingers against his lips to keep his words in. Her back against the bulkhead, no where else to run. 

"Regret, why will I regret it? We need to talk this out," he reached for her, but the look of fear that crossed her face stopped him inches away. 

"Because you're right I am a coward." Her breathing hitched as she said what she really believed, "you've been through a lot in the last six months. What you're feeling is classic transference. Feelings of gratitude mixed with our existing friendship." Jenny was a realist, she believed that Ty was in love with Amy. But even if he wasn't, Jen didn't think he could love her. She knew that if she let him in and pretended for even a short time, she would shatter when he discovered his mistake and left. 

"Talk to me, Jen." McQueen curled his hands around her upper arms in an attempt to bridge the gap between them. "What are you so afraid of? I care about you, I'd never hurt you." 

"Stay away from me!" There was real fear in Jen's voice. She knew if he didn't let go of her, she would give in to anything he wanted, and when it was over, she wouldn't even have his friendship.   
  
"You're wrong about what you think I feel," he took a step away and let go of her. But she remained tight against the bulkhead. The fear in her eyes hurting him in ways he didn't understand. 

"Are you sure about that?" For a moment she dared to hope, even as she argued against it. *"Maybe there was a chance?"* But even as the thought surfaced, she denied it. "This isn't the first time you've almost died." Her breath caught in her throat as she thought about the months she spent believing he had been killed with the rest of the Angels. "What makes this time so special?" She shook her head trying to understand what was going on. While a loud voice shouted in her head, *"trust him just one more time!"* 

McQueen felt equal parts anger and caring as his eyes moved over the marks left on her from fighting the AI. They were too similar to when she was mugged in Houston. He felt himself slipping back to old doubts and fears for her safety.   
  
"I don't know, exactly, but I do know we need to talk about what's going on between us." He hoped she could help him find the answers to his questions, but there was more to it than that. "You're important to me in ways I never realized before. I want us to find the answers together. But don't worry, no one else will know about it. I'll be careful, this time," his right hand moved across her neck and came to rest on the burn scar that was a symbol to McQueen of all the reasons why a relationship between an in-vitro and a natural-born were dangerous. "I'd never compromise the situation by letting others know what was going on." 

"What?" She exploded, pushing his arm away from her. He had cared about Amy enough to put up with all the prejudice that a 'mixed' couple could run into, but he wasn't willing to face that with her. "Get away from me! You're not playing fair," Jen fought to keep from crying. She had no doubt that Ty believed what he was saying, but his real feelings had shown through with his desire to keep things between themselves. "I've known for a while now that you, well........a.......desired me, or think you do. That's not the same as caring. As I said before, what you're feeling is transference. It's common enough, patients feeling things for their doctor that have no basis in reality. We just make it worse because of our friendship and this damn...attraction!" 

McQueen frowned, she was admitting she felt things for him, but was fighting it. He didn't understand why she was throwing up walls, when they needed to work this through and figure out what was really between them. It was the logical thing to do! If this were any other woman but Jen, he would be kissing her silly, and letting tomorrow take care of itself. 

"I'm guessing from your presence here that Ross told you what I said to convince him to let the 58th mount a rescue mission for Damphousse and Vansen." She licked her lips and pulled at the last shreds of courage she had left. "I'm sorry he broke my confidence. Let me assure you that you needn't worry. I'll never presume on you. No matter what my feelings are, I'll do my job and get through this war, then never bother you again." 

"Jen, wait..." He fought to break through her walls, but her expression had turned to ice. 

"No, let me say this, it needs to be said!" She glared at him, holding out her arms to keep him away. "I know you think you have feeling for me, but it would only lead to grief." She refused to listen to the voice inside of her that was shouting, *"what if you're wrong. You've always trusted Ty. At least hear what he has to say."* "I would never take advantage of what you think you're feeling now. And for me, I refuse to be anyone's second choice! Someone that you settle for because you can't have who you really want. I'd rather live my life alone than to do that." 

"Jen, you don't know what you're saying," McQueen was struck by a feeling of loss as her words hit him. "What gives you the right to decide for both of us?" 

"I'm trying to salvage what I can of our friendship," she wasn't sure which one of them she was trying to convince. "Please, if you care even the slightest for me, leave!" 

"I'm going," he moved to the hatch, knowing he would regret it for the rest if his life if he didn't finish this conversation. "But it isn't over, yet!" 

It was hours later, as sleep evaded her, that Jenny realized McQueen had never given her back her bracelet. "Damn," she muttered as she punched her pillow. "Why is he choosing now to be so contrary!" 

The Colonel was sitting in the alcove, watching the stars and his future slipping by him. His hand moved automatically for his dog tags. It was then that he realized he still had the gold chain that had brought him through so much in the last two weeks. "No, Jen my girl, this isn't over by a long shot!" He smiled as the warm gold filled his hand.   
............................................ 

September 13, 2064, 2030 hours McQueen's Alcove 

McQueen spent the hours sitting and watching the stars. His confrontation with Jenny had left him feeling confused and hollow. Some parts of his life were clearer than they ever had been before and others were out of focus in a way he had never imagined. 

"Ty?" Glen Ross leaned against the bulkhead and watched his friend. "I thought we had a card game this evening?" 

"Sorry I wasn't paying attention to the time," he smiled. "I had some thinking to do."   
  
"We'll be within range of Minerva by the day after tomorrow, if we're lucky and keep evading Chig patrols, as we've been doing so far." 

"I'd like to send the 'Cards in, Sir. They know McKendrick and the area." McQueen wanted badly to go with his squad, but knew he was ship bound for the next few months while his leg finished healing. 

"I've talked to Voss and he says Damphousse won't be back to active duty status until next week, due to her wrist. The bone healing drug works wonders, but it takes time for the new bone to be laid down. That'll leave them two short, three if you count the fact we've never replaced Kelly Winslow." Ross knew the subject of a replacement for Wang was a sore one, but it needed to be dealt with. 

"Mitch Connelly would be valuable on this assignment," McQueen had been going over the man's record and was impressed. "If things work out, I'd like to take what's left of the 29th, to fill out the 58th." Only Connelly and Lt. Maria Del Mar of the 29th, had returned from Demios. Both pilots had been at loose ends, filling in when squadrons were short, until new recruits could be shipped to the Saratoga. 

"He works well with your people, and Del Mar is an excellent pilot," Ross had been thinking alone the same lines, but was glad to have McQueen suggest it. "I think it would be more comfortable for all concerned, than to bring in a newbe." 

"Commodore....., Glen," McQueen cleared his throat as he turned to his friend. "I want you to have this," he handed over a letter he had written that morning, shortly after they had picked up the 58th from 2063Y. 

Frowning, Ross read what the Colonel had handed him. "Ty, do you know what you're doing?" The Commodore couldn't believe what he had read. 

"I'm resigning my commission. I realize that won't be effective until six months after peace is declared, but you've been too good a friend to me for me not to tell you." 

"But why?" Ross watched his friend carefully. "What brought this on?" 

"I've been thinking about it for months," McQueen sighed. "I used to believe that the worst enemy of a soldier was doubt, but I was wrong, it's caring. Especially, if that soldier is in a position of command. When the 58th stepped off that ISSCV this morning, any doubts that were still lingering about that where blown away." 

"What will you do? The Corps has been your life," Ross shook his head. Things were changing to fast around him. 

McQueen pulled another letter out of his flightsuit, "I got this while on the Clara." He took a picture out of the envelope and handed it to Ross, "that's the Black Gull, I helped design and build her, while on leave, the year before the war." 

"She's beautiful!" Ross admired the smooth classic lines of the racing sloop. Her hull and sails as dark as night. "Though I don't know much about ships like this," but he knew a woman who knew a great deal about these kinds of boats and he couldn't help smiling. 

"Lars Morgans did most of the work, but I helped," McQueen could feel the satisfaction he had gotten seeing his design come to life. "He sent me that picture and the specs on another boat that he's has been asked to build, after the owner saw the Gull. I started working on it while I was on the Clara and if time allows, will do it here." 

"So you plan on going into business with this man when the war is over?" 

"No, I can't. Lars works for Jen, and she's made it pretty clear that she doesn't want me around." McQueen tried to sound casual, but wasn't sure he pulled it off. Then a thought struck him. "Glen, what did she say to you that convinced you to let her go looking for Vansen and Damphousse?" 

The question was asked so matter-of-factly, it caught Ross off guard. "She said a lot of things, she was pretty intense that morning," the Commodore dodged McQueen's question. "Why do you ask?" 

"Something she said to me earlier," he cocked his head at the Commodore as the silence lengthened. "You're not going to tell me, are you?" 

"No. That's between the two of you," Ross stood and faced his friend. "Jenny wasn't herself that morning and I think she said a lot of things that she wouldn't have, under normal circumstances. My advice to you is to give her some breathing room. One thing I can tell you, is she has this crazy idea that it's her fault the Wildcards went down and she feels the same way about your leg." 

"That's nonsense," McQueen shook his head at the foolishness of women. "What gave her that idea?" 

"The morning the 58th went to Kazbek she made a deal with the Universe or God or whatever you want to call it. Anyway, if 'It' would keep you people safe, she wouldn't do something she wanted very badly to do." Ross shrugged, hoping he wasn't giving away too much of what Jenny had told him. "Somewhere along the line she feels she reneged on her deal. Then everything went to hell." 

"Damn, why didn't she tell me any of this?" 

"She couldn't," Ross smiled sadly. 

"But she could tell you?" McQueen didn't like the idea that Jen was confiding in Ross, when she used to talk to him. 

"I was the only one who could help her accomplish her objective. Even then I don't think she would have told me, if she hadn't been so upset." He turned to his friend, "she believed your message from the Clara. She truly believed they were alive, and they were." 

"Yeah, she told me," McQueen sighed. "She said she had faith in what I said. I was out of my head from the injury and medication from surgery and she believed me. It doesn't make anymore sense than her believing she was to blame for what happened." 

"Ty, she always believes you," Ross wanted to shake his friend and tell him to 'wake up and smell the coffee,' before it was too late. 

"No, she doesn't," McQueen shook his head. "Not always." 

"If it's important to you, you'd better do something about it," Ross turned to leave, then thought better of it. "McQueen, when you do hash it out with her, be very sure that you say what you really mean. If you hurt her, you'll have me to answer to and it won't be a pretty sight!"   
............................ 

Wildcards' Quarters, 2200 hours same night: 

Maria Del Mar and Mitch Connelly were moved into the Wildcards' quarters. As the young Marines looked at the three empty bunks, the tension grew in the room. Maria picked up her gear and made a quick decision, "I'll be damned if I'll let them move some stranger into Wang's spot. I'll take this bunk." Everyone nodded as the soft spoken woman moved across the room to place her things where Paul had slept. "Unless 'Phousse wants it?" 

"I asked her this afternoon, and she says she wants to stay where she is," Shane patted the bunk above hers. 

"Okay, that's settled," West smiled as Connelly took Winslow's old bunk. "That only leaves the issue of call signs. You guys adverse to taking new ones?" 

"No, problem with me," Del Mar looked up, sadly. "How about you Mitch?" 

Hawkes grinned when Mitch agreed. "Well Connelly, since we've all played cards with you, I think we've got you covered," the other Marines groaned and agreed. "But what about you, Maria?" 

"Me?" She gave them her impish grin. "There's only one name for me, if I'm going to be a Wildcard, 'Aces 'N Eights'...." 

"But....that's a dead man's hand," Shane protested. "You don't want that!" 

"Oh, yes I do," Maria turned to face the rest of her new squad. "My Grandmama was the medicine woman of her village in Mexico. Grandfather was an American, who was injured while camping. He wandered into the village mad with fever. Anyway when he left, she went with him. He always said she had The Sight, and I believe him. I was born on the Day Of The Dead, November 1st. She used to call me, Aces 'N Eights. Said it would bring me luck one day. Now I guess I know why she gave me that nickname. Among her people we honor the dead, even the ones we KILL," her eyes turned deadly as she thought of the revenge she would reap on the Chigs for the loss of the 29th.   
  
During the two days it took to get to Minerva, McQueen and Jenny kept their distance. Both knew that a confrontation between them was inevitable, but both wanted to put it off for as long as possible. 

McQueen ran his squad through a number of simulations, watching and approving how the two new members worked with the original group. Connelly was gone whenever the sims weren't being run, working with Cpt. Fisher and the small team they had put together trying to decode the AI information.   
................................... 

The Saratoga in orbit of Minerva, September 16, 0630 hours:   
  
"All right people, listen up," McQueen walked into the briefing room and got the immediate attention of his Marines. "The mission is a simple extraction. We need to do this quickly and with precision. Our objective is Major Cyril McKendrick, an underground operative who has been hiding on this planet for the last year. Lts. Connelly and Del Mar haven't met the man, but the rest of you have. We haven't been able to establish radio contact with the Major, but it is imperative that you go in and bring him out, along with any data he has collected in the last year." 

The Colonel's eyes swept the group of Marines. It took him a moment to realize he had been looking for the eager face of Paul Wang. Catching his breath, he pulled himself back to the present and continued. "We have no recent intell on Minerva, so be prepared for anything. In the past this planet has been occupied by both AI's and Chigs, so watch your six. The last time we were here, the AI's we ran into were dying of the virus, but take nothing for granted. I'll be on the bridge monitoring. You are to maintain radio silence unless there is trouble. Meet on the ISSCV at 0700." Looking at his watch, he called out the time, "0642, ready, ready, hack. Good luck people!"   
........................... 

Minerva September 16, 2064 - 0800 hours: 

Major McKendrick had been working through the night again. He had cracked the AI code, but decoding all the transmissions of the last few months was a long and tedious job. His time was running out and he knew it. Somehow the few remaining AI's were aware of his presence. The Major was involved in a race. Stay hidden until the virus killed them, or they found him and killed him: winner take all. The Chigs had pulled out a few weeks ago, when information came to them of a major offensive, so he only had the one enemy to deal with.   
........................... 

Saratoga Bridge 

McQueen fought the urge to pace. He was a man of economical movements, but it took every bit of self-control to subdue his nervous energy. He could picture the terrain around McKendrick's bunker. It was rough open ground, where his Marines would have little cover if they were attacked. The 58th had been gone two hours and wouldn't be back for at least another hour, even if things went like clock work. What he was feeling underscored his need to resign his commission once the war was over. Damning his leg and the need to stay aboard ship, he sat at his post, determined to remain there until the Wildcards were home. 

It caught him up short to realize that he was letting feelings rule him, instead of logic. Up until now he had been telling himself that it was the logical thing to do. Resign because he wasn't as good a commander as he had been. Keeping one ear open for the radio, he concentrated on the problem at hand, feelings versus logic. Who would have thought he would find himself fighting that battle? It was the damn dreams that had awakened a part of him that he didn't know existed. 

McQueen looked down at his pocket computer and realized he had been writing down the questions that had been bothering him for days. Now if he could only answer them! 

1. What is my 'genuine path'?   
2. Who can I become?   
3. Who was I? What am I now? (Why did I change?)   
4. Why wouldn't I let Jen go to Kazbek?   
5. Where is my home?   
.......................... 

The radio crackled to life, and brought the bridge crew to attention. "Saratoga, this is the 5-8 we are 20 mikes out, and coming in with wounded." 

"We've got company coming," Com. Chang called from his position at LIDAR. 

"All hands to battle stations," Ross nodded to Chang, as he moved quickly to stand behind McQueen. 

"Launch Hammerheads," McQueen ordered, as he looked over at Ross. "Notify Sickbay of incoming causalities, Commander." 

"Yes, Sir," Chang moved through the motions he had gone through hundreds of times in the last year.   
.......................... 

McQueen's Quarters 2030 hours that night: 

McQueen stumbled into his quarters, exhausted from the day. Every muscle in his body hurt as he moved to his shower. He stood under the hot water, as it beat against his back, his forehead leaning against the wall. Gripped tightly in his right hand was the bracelet he still had on his dog tags. He tried to wash the horror of what had almost happened from his mind, but he didn't think all the water on the Saratoga would be able to do that. Finally as his muscles begin to loosen their grip, he let his mind move back over the events of the day.   
....................... 

It had been bad enough to have to send the 58th off without him, and the hours he had waited for their return had been hard, but it was nothing he hadn't experienced before. He had finally taken an easy breath when the ISSCV was safely back on the Saratoga. 

"McQueen you better get down to the Launch Bay, there's a problem," Ross whispered tersely. "McKendrick was hit by one of those new exploding rounds that we've been hearing so much about. Jenny is trying to remove it in the Bay, before it goes off. Go on man, I'll cover your post!" 

The Colonel had taken off at a run, but he hadn't been fast enough. Jen had managed to trick her two Corpsman into leaving the Bay, and had closed and locked the crash doors. All he could do was watch on the small monitor to the right of the door, as she and Joan Brill worked on McKendrick's leg. 

"Colonel McQueen," Corpsman Trosper had lunged for the emergency release mechanism. "We've got to get in there and help. I can't leave Lady-Doc and the Commander in there alone." 

"You will do nothing of the kind," Ty's voice cracked, as he issued the order. He would have given his soul to be beside Jen, but the medical team had already begun working. If the unexploded cartridge went off before Jen was able to get it into the protective box that had been brought in, the only thing that would save the Saratoga was the pressure locked Bay doors. The exterior walls of the Bay had been specially constructed to take the impact of an explosion and blow outward, protecting the ship. The Carrier would be intact, but lose one of its Launch Bays. Jenny had known exactly what she was doing when she locked herself in there with Joan Brill. 

"But Sir...." Trosper stopped mid-sentence when he saw the look of ice in the Colonel's eyes, before the grim older man turned quickly back to the monitor. 

It had been the longest ten mikes of McQueen's life as he watched Jenny work on the wounded man. His heart caught in his throat when he saw her stand and wheel around to run for the Explosive Discharge Box. A pair of long slim forceps in her hand, at the end of which was the deadly charge. She had made it almost to the box when the Saratoga shifted. McQueen fisted his hands at his sides as he watched her retain her footing and toss the explosive, forceps and all in the box and slam the lid closed. She hadn't gone two feet when the box roared as it jumped in the air and burst into flames. Both women were knocked to the deck as smoke filled the room from the burning box. 

Seconds later McQueen and Trosper flew through the door. The Colonel grabbed a fire extinguisher to put out what was left of the fire, and the Corpsman checked on McKendrick and the medical team. 

"Get the Major down to Sickbay," Jenny choked, her eyes watering and her voice scratchy from breathing smoke. "I'll be along in a minute." 

"What the hell did you two think you were doing?" McQueen ground out as his icy stare brushed the Doctor and Joan Brill." 

"The only thing we could have done, given the situation," Jen shivered from the expression on McQueen's face. "If we'd taken him to Sickbay and that shell went off, the port side of the ship might have gone, maybe more." She wished her head would stop pounding so she could think clearly. 

"And don't worry........Sir, Major McKendrick will be fine." Turning quickly to follow the stretcher, she listed slightly and would have lost her footing, except for the familiar hand that caught her elbow. 

"Jen," Ty whispered, as she instinctively gripped the black flightsuit covered arm that had helped her maintain her balance. 

"Thank you, Colonel," the Doctor, tossed hair out of her eyes and looked up into McQueen's grim face. "But I'm fine now," taking a deep breath, she pulled her arm free of his grip and walked with as much dignity as she could, out of the Bay. 

"Ty," Joan touched his arm in an attempt to give what comfort she could. "She's wasn't hurt, and there really wasn't anything else we could have done." 

"She's been taking too many chances lately," McQueen looked into the worried eyes of the nurse. 

"There's a war on, Colonel," she arched her brow, as her voice cracked. "Loses are part of war........." 

"Joan, I'm sorry," McQueen shook himself, as he remembered too late that Joan's oldest daughter had died when the Eisenhower was lost over Demios. 

"I'm not the one you should be apologizing to," the nurse gave him a challenging looking and left him alone in the blackened Launch Bay.   
.......................... 

McQueen had been exhausted when his head hit his pillow, now he kept seeing Jen with her face smudged and her hair disheveled, looking slightly groggy from the compression of the blast. At the time he had been so angry he didn't know which he wanted to do more, kiss her or shake her. Now, he knew he wanted to do both. *"She had no business taking risks like that,"* he thought as he turned over, and finally felt himself falling asleep. *"But what else could she have done?"* 

McQueen became aware of the sound of Johnny Cash singing about being so 'doggone lonesome'. Looking into the shadows, he saw he wasn't in his quarters anymore, but in a large open space, standing in the middle of a road that stretch on forever in both directions. In a distance he saw the form of Ray Butts leaning against a sign post. 

"What the hell!" 

"I was beginning to think you were going to ignore me forever," the dead Recon Colonel moved closer, the click of his boots the only other sound besides the music. "You almost lost her for good this time didn't you, McQueen?" Butts' gravelly voice caught the Colonel by surprise. "First that damn AI, then this afternoon, an explosive device." 

"What the hell are you doing here?" McQueen looked around in the dark, there weren't any stars in the sky. Just the road that lead to nowhere, Butts and himself, wearing the sweat pants he had been sleeping in. 

"She's not going to let you keep her safe is she?" The dead man shook his head, "women like that have no place in this man's Corps. They get a hold of your heart and never let go. And they don't know shit about following orders." 

"How do you know all this?" McQueen had been trying to dismiss the earlier dreams as anesthesia induced, but it had been too long since his surgery for that, now. 

"You'd be surprised," ice would have been warmer than the expression in Butts' eyes. "You're going to lose that little doctor of yours and it's going to cost you more than you realize. She's scared, McQueen. She's watched you die once already, then received the deathgram from the Marines to prove it. She's going to keep pushing you away unless you do something about it." 

"You don't know what you're talking about!" The in-vitro shook his head denying what he was seeing and hearing. 

"Don't I? Back in '52, in Karakoram, there was a woman. Her name was Victoria. She was a civilian metallurgist with the 3rd. Armored Division. She was smart, beautiful, and could have had any man she wanted. But she only wanted one: me. If that don't beat all?" The dead man shook his head at the memory. 

"What does this have to do with anything?" McQueen didn't want to listen to Butts, he had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as to where this story led. 

"It has to do with *everything*, Tank," Butts roared. "We'd been fighting for months to take the Hindu Kush Mountains, but winter comes early there, and we already had feet of snow. We should have been back at base, but we weren't. That idiot Dawson was convinced he could pull a surprise attack by way of Ali Bhutto Pass, gaining victory and lower altitude at the same time. 

"Hindu Kush, a good name, it means Hindu Slaughter." Butts paced, then stood and looked McQueen in the eyes. "I convinced him to let me do a quick recon of the area. The night before I left, Victoria begged me to stay. She said if we were going to die, we were going to die, and there was nothing I could do about it. It turned out she was partially right. I got captured. The CC's tortured me for days. I didn't care what they did to me. There was no way I was going to break. I figured I was buying time for the 3rd. What I didn't know was that SHE was already laying dead in the Pass. Slaughtered. Dawson had another vision the night I left and moved them out." 

"Are you telling me that Jen's going to die?" McQueen whispered. 

"I don't know," Butts shook his head. "It twists your gut to think about it, doesn't it? If it happens, the day you die, you'll still be thinking about it, trying to figure out what you could've done differently." Butts nodded his head at a memory. "You don't get it do you? If I had stayed as Tory asked, I couldn't have saved her, but I'd have only outlived her long enough to kill the bastard who killed her."   
  
"I'd give my life to keep Jen safe," Ty looked at Butts, feeling a kinship with the man he never would have believed.   
  
"She would do the same for you. What do you think has been driving her these last months? She hasn't been thinking about herself. She's been thinking about the people you care about and you," Butts spat the words out. 

"You don't know that!" McQueen challenged.   
  
"I know, McQueen, because *you* know. You can't stop her, but you can make it easier for both of you, but you won't, will you? She's scared not for herself, but for you. She watched you die with the rest of the Angels. She sent you off to almost certain death at Kazbek. She gave you support when you went out to fight von Richthofen, alone," Butts watched McQueen as the last year played through his mind. "Why should she let you in, when you don't even have the guts to say the words she needs to hear!" 

"I tried, but she wouldn't listen," McQueen argued. 

"Bull shit, you did!" Butts shook his head. "If you'd said what she needed to hear, you wouldn't be sleeping alone." 

"Now wait just a damn minute!" Ty lunged toward the other man. 

"What are you going to do, hit me?" Butts laughed at the indignant look on the other man's face. "I'm just a dream remember." 

"If you're a dream, get the hell out of here!" McQueen demanded. "My relationship with Jen isn't like that. I'd never use her, or take a chance on her getting hurt because of me." 

"That's the real problem isn't it, you're just as afraid as she is?" Butts' voice softened as he remember a woman who had been dead years longer than he had. "Women like that have no business loving men like us, and we have no business loving them, but when it happens, grab on with both hands, McQueen, because it's the best think that'll ever happen to you. You can't stop her lovin' you, all you can do is drive her away and break her heart and most likely yours, too. Don't make my mistake," Butts became a whisper in the darkness as he headed down the long road until he was only a shadow in the distance. The last thing McQueen heard as he was left staring at the emptiness, was an indistinct, "you might not be as lucky as I was." 

McQueen turned in his bunk and shook himself awake. It took him a moment to realize he had been dreaming. "Damn," he muttered as he pulled a t-shirt over his head, grabbed his pocket computer and headed out of his quarters. 

The deserted Mess Hall was dark except for the small light over the all-night coffee pot. McQueen stood in the shadows beside the corner table where he and Paul had talked months ago. His cup of coffee growing cold as he stared out at the stars trying to find an answer that he knew could only be found within him. 

"Colonel," Cooper Hawkes, moved quietly behind his commanding officer. "You all right, Sir?" 

"Sure Hawkes," McQueen turned absent mindedly toward the young in-vitro. "What are you doing up so late?" 

"I saw you heading this way and just wanted to be sure you were okay," Coop watched the older in-vitro as he moved to the table. The young man was still amazed at how well the Colonel had recovered from his injury. 

"Hhmm....I'm a Marine, Hawkes, I don't need you to watch over me." 

"Sir, you don't need me to watch over you, because you've already got someone doing that job," Cooper stopped and looked at McQueen, then decided he would go for broke. "Did you know Lady-Doc talks in her sleep?" 

"She having nightmares again?" 

"No, Sir, not exactly," 

"On the Yorktown, before the war," McQueen smiled remembering long ago. "The Angry Angels always knew how worried she was about us, by what she would say in her sleep. When she's awake, she hides her fears pretty well, but when Jen's asleep it comes tumbling out, usually about 0300." 

"I had the watch at that time on 2063 Yankee," Hawkes tried to sound casual. "The Lady-Doc had plenty to say........" 

"That's understandable....." McQueen ground to a halt as Hawkes shook his head. 

"She talked about you...and well, it was personal," Hawkes stood and began to move away from the table. 

"Hawkes," the Colonel called out. "Thank you for telling me." 

"Sir," Coop turned back to his mentor. "I did what I could to make it easier for her. None of the others know and I don't think she realized she was talking in her sleep." 

"She never realized it before," the older man smiled. Life had suddenly become easy for him. "And we never told her. The Angels decided that she did so much to take care of us, if we listened carefully, we would know how to take care of her." 

"You plannin' on doing that?" Hawkes watched McQueen with growing curiosity. 

"That's easier said than done. Jen can be damn stubborn when she sets her mind to it." The Colonel looked up at Hawkes and grinned, "but then so am I." 

"My money's on you Colonel," Hawkes laughed as he left the older man alone with the stars. 

McQueen turned on his hand computer. It was still open to the file that contained the information from his dreams. Shaking his head at how simple it had all become, he tapped in the word JEN, then closed the file. Now, all he had to do was figure out how to convince her.   
...................................... 

Saratoga Sickbay September 17, 2064- 0700 hours: 

"How are you feeling this morning Major McKendrick?" Dr. Kirkwood checked over the notes the night nurse had left. 

"How marvelous, a lady doctor," the Major smiled. "I'm doing much better since you and the nice Commander got that nasty shell out of me, though you took quite a chance." 

"I hope it wasn't too painful," Jenny checked his bandaged thigh. "I'm sorry, I know I started working before the pain block took full effect." 

"Never you mind that. It was something that needed to be done, and quickly," McKendrick patted her hand. "After I was hit, I tried to tell the young Marines that I shouldn't even be brought aboard the shuttle, let alone the Saratoga! They were quiet insistent, though. I've met them before, they're always very insistent!" 

"I think that would be an accurate description," the Doctor smiled. "They had a good teacher." 

"I want to thank you," the Major turned serious. "What you and your nurse did was one of the bravest things I've ever seen." 

"Brave!" Jenny shook her head. "Not brave, a bit desperate maybe, but not brave. I don't think I've ever been as afraid in my life as I was when I realized what you were saying about the round in your leg. I'm surprised my hands didn't shake so much I set the darn thing off before I could get it out of you." 

"To have not been afraid, would have been foolish," he spoke kindly. "The actions one takes when most afraid are the ones that determine if one is brave or not." 

"Not everyone shares your opinion, Major," the memory of Ty's public tongue lashing stung. 

"You're speaking about the angry Colonel McQueen?" The Major remembered his last run-in with the Marine, "he can be a tough bastard when he wants to be, but he knows a lot about bravery, too." The Major had seen what Jenny had missed: the expression of fear on McQueen's face when the doors first opened. 

"Flattery will get you nowhere, McKendrick," both the Doctor and the Major looked up to see McQueen leaning against the hatchway. 

"Colonel, a bit early aren't you?" Jenny moved between McQueen and her patient. She wondered how much of the conversation he had overheard. "We aren't through with morning rounds. If you will excuse us, please!" She moved toward the open hatch to close him out. 

"And good-morning to you too, Jen," the Colonel smiled at her as his eyes looked her over from head to toe. 

For one moment Jenny's breath caught in her throat, she felt nailed to the deck by the way he was looking at her. "Out, McQueen," her voice rumbled as she tried to push the hatch closed on him. 

"Commodore Ross and I'll be back in about an hour, Major," he spoke to the Major, but his eyes never left the Doctor's face. "I'll see you later too, Jen." 

"Well, well, it looks as if the tough Colonel has warmed up a bit since the last time I met him," the Major grinned at the Doctor. 

Jenny stomped out of McKendrick's bay, the morning wasn't starting out at all well. She decided that at the first sign of Ross and McQueen she was going to make herself scarce. She didn't think her nervous system could take much more of Ty's games. What was he trying to pull, making it look as if....as if they were.....? Jen bit her lip to keep her mind away from the look in his eyes. She wondered briefly, if they would Court Martial her, if she killed him. After all, what was one irritating Colonel more or less. The Marines had plenty of them to spare!   
............................ 

O830 McKendrick's Bay: 

"Major, what is about to be discussed here today, is classified and compartmentalized." Commodore Ross looked at the serious faces of the people in the room. "You already know Colonel McQueen. This is Captain Fisher, and I believe you've met Lieutenant Connelly." 

"Commodore, it is a pleasure to meet all of you," McKendrick smiled at his visitors. His eyes rested on McQueen for just a moment, as he added, "it's wonderful, you Yanks, have so many lovely women on board." The older man grinned as he watched the Colonel's eyes freeze over. 

The five people spent the next hour going over the information McKendrick could add to what was already known about the AI virus. If what the Major was telling them was correct, the AI's were being wiped out one planet at a time. 

"What I still don't understand is how the virus was transmitted?" Connelly looked through the print-outs that McKendrick had transcribed. 

"I think it was originally placed on Minerva," the Major thought back over all he had discovered in the last year. "I believe that was to be a testing ground to see if it really worked. 

"I do know that once the virus was recognized, there were nothing but income transmissions. As if the AI's on Minerva realized the disease could be spread, if they contacted their main network. Check through the records you have from 2063Y, I think, you'll find there is only one outgoing message sent from Minerva, after the beginning of April and it was sent by your squadron, Col. McQueen." 

"The last time we were on Minerva," McQueen could picture Shane helping Paul by retrieving the information he wanted so badly. "We tried to download information from the AI mainframe. The Elroy model we used, had the virus, but was dying from wounds received in battle." 

"If the message you sent was accepted, it would be enough to spread the virus to the mainframe. Anything that was sent from the hub, from then on, would also contain the virus." Fisher dug through the information she had, trying to find a reference to Minerva. "Yes, here it is, April 20, 2064, though the content of the message was deleted." 

"The mainframe has always had defense mechanisms on it, that's why we've never been able to find it." Connelly had studied the AI's and the mainframe that was their central hub, when in school. "After the AI's left Earth, they recreated a hub somewhere in space." 

"That explains how the virus was spread off Minerva," Fisher shrugged. She hadn't missed the look that had passed between McQueen and Ross, they knew more than they were saying. She was glad this was a need to know assignment. There were some things she never wanted to learn about and who had accidentally spread the virus was one of them. 

"Commodore, Colonel, may I have a moment alone with you?" McKendrick nodded toward Fisher and Connelly as they left the room. "There is one other thing you should know, but it is of a delicate nature," McKendrick cleared his throat. "As you probably know, I was with Supply before the massacre on Minerva. Most people don't know this, but every message that is sent anywhere off Earth has a scrambled code unique to the sender embedded in the body of the message. I know about it because I did some sensitive work long before I was sent to rot at the supply depot on Io." 

"Are you telling us you know who planted the virus?" Ross was interested in knowing, but he didn't see the importance. Someone from Earth was using biological warfare against the AI's. Not exactly ethical, but AI's only played by the rules when it suited them. 

"Yes, but more importantly, the same people sent out information about a huge Earth offensive in late August. I believe it was called......" 

"Operation Roundhammer?" Ross and McQueen finished for him. 

"Yes! That's the one. After almost no communication from the AI's, all of the sudden, messages started coming in very fast," the Major remembered sitting up nights trying to decode the transmissions. "And the AI's on Minerva would send messages to the Chigs." 

"Do you know whose code was being used to give this information to the enemy?" McQueen whispered, his mouth going dry as he thought of Savage's accusations about Stryker and Hayden. 

"Carleton Stryker sent the virus and Diane Hayden sent the information about Operation Roundhammer," McKendrick whispered as if the walls had ears. "Both of them sent numerous messages to Minerva. One of the earliest ones I found, requested an AI infiltration of the Saratoga back in early February." 

"The Elroy that blew up the Sewell Fuel," Ross whispered as McQueen nodded in agreement. "It doesn't make sense, why would they help the Chigs with battle information, at the same time they're creating a virus to kill AI's? Is there any way these codes can be faked?" Ross needed to be very sure of his information. 

"No, if the codes are tampered with, a shadow is left behind, a finger print of the person who does the tampering, so to speak," McKendrick had helped develop that part of the code and knew without a doubt that the tracking system was reliable. "It was developed during the AI war, to prevent them from raiding our component supplies and computer information. It wasn't common knowledge and only those on a need to know basis were allowed access. I can only assume that the safeguard was left in place after the AI's were driven off Earth to help prevent their return." 

"Did Aerotech know about the codes?" McQueen couldn't believe Hayden and Stryker could have made an error of this magnitude. 

"It would be very unlikely," McKendrick cleared his throat as he decided how much more he was willing to say. "Actually the code is early Geek-Squad work." 

"The M5 Computer Black-Ops unit?" Ross felt a chill run down his spine. "I didn't think they really existed." 

"I assure you, Commodore, they are very real," the Major smiled. 

Ross reassessed the mild fatherly looking man sitting in the hospital bed across from him. Anyone who believed in the Brit's CBO, spoke about them with the greatest of respect, often generated by fear. The term Geek-Squad was only used by those on the inside. 

"I was an early drop-out, but my.......interesting knowledge, shall we say? Made me perfect for a supply hub on Io in the last years of the AI rebellion. You're right to think of them with respect. I wouldn't play their game and they saw to it most of my career was spent doing drudgery. I know where enough bodies are buried, figuratively speaking, to assure you that you needn't concern yourself about them." The Major's eyes turned hard and cold, "they'll play ball on this one, it's too big to let slide."   
.............................. 

Saratoga Rec Room, September 17, 1600 hours: 

McQueen sat at a computer terminal, staring at the face of a dead woman. He hadn't been able to let go of his dream about Butts the night before. Was this woman, this Victoria Elizabeth Henning, Ph.D. the woman Butts had been talking about? He remembered doing a thorough background check on Butts a year ago when the other man had commandeered the 58th. Had he seen this woman's picture when looking through the files on Karakoram and invented the dream from last night? 

Laughter from the corner of the room made the Colonel look up and smile. The two new members of the Wildcards were fitting in well. Paul's death was still felt, but since the addition of Del Mar and Connelly, they had lost the shell shocked look that had been in their eyes when they had first gotten back. 

"Ask her what her full name is," Connelly laughed. "Go ahead, I dare you!" 

"Okay, what's your full name, Maria?" Coop looked a bit confused at the way Connelly was teasing Del Mar. 

"It's no big deal really," she rolled her eyes and grinned at Hawkes. "He just thinks it's funny. The attorney here doesn't understand tradition. My full name is Maria Carlotta O'Brien Del Mar." 

"O'Brien?" Shane laughed. "It doesn't fit. You don't look a bit Irish," she shook her head at the beautiful dark haired, dark eyed woman. 

"My Grandfather, the one who capture the heart of the original Maria Carlotta, while he was lost in the mountains of Mexico, had red hair and freckles," Maria laughed. "I am told that the Irish comes out in my temper." 

"I guess we've been warned," Nathan looked around the table. 

"How about a game of darts?" Connelly was enjoying some down time, since McKendrick had begun working with the team he and Fisher had assembled, he was back to being a Marine pilot. 

"Jenny's springing 'Phousse from Sickbay," Shane pulled back her chair. "The four of us are getting together for the afternoon." 

"Jenny and 'Phousse, too?" Coop thought that sounded like a better way to spend the afternoon. "I'll come with you guys." 

"Sorry, Hawkes, it's just the girls this afternoon, but Lady-Doc gave 'Phousse the okay to go out tonight, and she promised she'd join us. We'll meet you guys in the Tun this evening." Maria shook her head at the young man, "I doubt you'd enjoy this afternoon much, anyway." 

"Aaahh." He nodded in understanding, "girl stuff?" 

"Yup," Shane laughed as the two woman headed toward the door. 

"We really liked the red nail polish," West snickered at the retreating backs of his female comrades. 

"Like we'd do it for you guys?" Maria glared over her shoulder and Vansen gave him a nasty look. 

"The last time Damphousse and Vansen got together with Jen, the three of them ended up in tears," McQueen gave Hawkes a bemused expression. "There was a large quantity of wine consumed at the time, so that may have had something to do with it," he smiled as he remembered the women's expressions when they discovered him at their door. "The good Doctor may have let them get drunk in her quarters then, but I doubt she'll allow it now, at least until Vanessa is back to active duty." 

"Were they all right? I can't think of anything bad enough to make all three of them cry at once," Hawkes couldn't picture what the Colonel had described, but from the expression on the older man's face, he was being serious. 

"According to Jen, they were having a *good time*." 

"They were probably watching one of those sloppy chick-flicks," Nathan spoke with the voice of experience. "Kylen loved to do that. She'd sit there with tears rolling down her face, smiling like crazy and saying 'wasn't that beautiful!' The first time it happened, it scared me to death," Nathan grimaced. "It's hard to imagine those three like that, though I'd rather face a squad of Chigs bare-handed than Jenny in tears, again." 

"What do you mean, West?" McQueen tried to look casual, but he knew his face had frozen over. 

"The night of the peace talks," when Nathan had to talk about that night, that was how he described it. In his heart he thought of it as the night it all ended: his waiting for Kylen; life as he had known it with the 58th; Paul's life; even the Colonel had changed. "It was late, and Hawkes and I were in our quarters trying to convince ourselves that it was all just a nightmare, when Jenny came in. Well, Sir, I've never seen anyone cry like that. She begged us not to make her leave. She was terrified of being left alone," the memory still had the power to shake him. "We held onto her until she cried herself to sleep, then we put her to bed in Winslow's old bunk." 

"That night was rough on everyone," Coop felt the need to make excuses. "Women cry. Guys like to tear someone's guts out." 

"Yeah, but who'd of figured it, Lady-Doc? She's always....there. I guess I forget she's a woman," Nathan shivered at the memory. 

"They want it that way, most of the time," Mitch thought about the woman of the 58th. "They'd bust us in the chops if we treated them as anything but one of the guy." 

"Connelly's right," McQueen needed time to examine what West said about Jen. "They regroup in private and will be stronger for it." 

"Women, who can figure'em!" Hawkes shook his head in disgust. 

"You know what I'd like to know?" Connelly looked around the table at Nathan and Coop, "I'd like to know what Dr. Kirkwood said to Ross to make him change his mind about us going after Vansen and Damphousse? We'd already tried to talk him into it. He wouldn't hear of it. Then bingo! The next thing we know, we're headed off to that strange little planet and Lady-Doc is packing a k-bar and an M-590." 

"I'm sure if the Commodore wanted you to know, he would have told you." McQueen looked one last time at the woman on the computer screen, before he turned it off to head back to his quarters. The true story about her was forever buried in Ali Bhutto Pass, but he had a story that still needed an ending. Had West just handed him the key?   
............................ 

September 17, 2000 hours Ross's quarters: 

"What a day!" Ross looked across his desk at McQueen. "And this is only the beginning. Once McKendrick begins working on those files full time, who knows what we'll find. Given his background he's an unimpeachable source. Just the bits and pieces he has added to the information Fisher and Connelly have, make it look like we've got one hell of a tiger by the tail!" 

"Did you get the information off to Savage?" The Colonel took a drink of scotch, the ramifications of the information McKendrick had unearthed still making him reel. 

"Not yet, the Saratoga is running under radio silence until we're across the Von Braun Line." Ross wondered how many encrypted messages he had sent, could be traced back to him. "I always wondered why Savage sent anything important by messenger. All this time I thought he was just old fashioned." 

"You think he knew about the encoding?" McQueen looked into the amber liquid in his glass. "I wondered why it was so important to him, that the information I brought you a few days ago be brought in person." 

"Frank's an old warhorse, I think the habit of sending vital information by messenger became ingrained during the AI war, and he was never able to let go of it," Ross shrugged, then grinned. "Besides I think he thought there was someone who needed you out here." 

"He told me he wanted you to have someone you could trust," McQueen grinned back, refusing to be baited by his friend. "I guess that's me." 

The two men sat in silence for a moment as Ross worried over another subject, "what are we going to tell Vansen?" He had been shaken by the irony of Shane being the one to bring down the AI's. "This is going to get out eventually and she will know she's the one to have sent the message. She should hear it from one of us before that." 

"I'll tell her," the Colonel leaned forward as he held up his glass of scotch and inhaled the fragrance. "Shane has hated AI's since they killed her parents. That hate has been part of what's driven her through this war. If you fuel a life on hate, you'll burn yourself out. She deserves better than that." 

"You realize that if it were common knowledge, she'd probably get a medal." 

"I'm not sure it's a medal she'd be very proud of. No matter how much she hated them, genocide is genocide even if it is AI's." McQueen got up to watch the stars from the view port, "I want to thank you for protecting Paul in this matter, Sir." 

"Ty, the boy is up for the Congressional Medal Of Honor, I wouldn't do anything that would ruin his chances at that. He deserves it. He gave his life for the Homeward Bound mission," Ross sighed. "Besides, the Suits back there, the World back there, wouldn't be able to understand what he went through. It's not something that can be read about, it has to be felt." 

"Yeah," McQueen met Ross' eyes, realizing for the first time that Ross really did understand. He put his glass down, needing to change the subject, "I'd like your permission to get Dr. Kirkwood in on the loop regarding Vansen." 

"That's a good idea, though the whole thing is classified, at the moment. She already knows about the virus, the little bit you'd need to tell her wouldn't really matter," Ross' eyes glittered as he looked at his friend and another idea came to mind. 

"I'll talk with her about it soon." 

"One other thing, Ty. Voss talked to me when you first got back on board. Dr. Turek from the Clara, doesn't want to take any chances with that prosthesis of yours. With things in such an upheaval during this war, they believe I should assign you a permanent physician." Ross looked as serious as he could as he watched his friend's eyes ice over. 

"Voss was applying for the job?" 

"No," Ross laughed, unable to tease the man any longer. "He suggested Dr. Kirkwood. He seems to feel she has the most luck getting you to cooperate in Sickbay." 

"That would mean she'd spend the duration out here?" McQueen turned back to watch the stars. 

"Or until you were transferred back to Earth. I know it's not ideal, but it's the best we can do to assure her safety, and yours," Ross got up and joined his friend at the port hole. "Once Savage gets this information it's still going to be a while before it's all sorted out and we have no guarantee that it'll come out as we want it to." 

"She could die out here," the truth cut at McQueen. 

"We all could," Ross gave his friend's shoulder a supportive squeeze. "She could die anywhere, in some freak accident, war or no war." 

"I know that, but it doesn't make it any easier," the Colonel finished his drink and thought for a moment. 

"I can't leave her with the Wildcards much longer, that story is growing a bit thin." Ross searched for the words to free his friend to do what they both knew he wanted to do. "This would take her out of your chain of command, except for the fact that you rank her." 

"Oh?" The Colonel looked at Ross, his eyes cool, refusing to show the relief he felt. "Why would you need to do that?" He knew he was being handed a gift. Honor was making it hard for him to accept it. 

"McQueen, I can think of a number of times in the last year when she has countermanded a direct order given her by her commanding officer. Granted, all those occasions have been in his best interest, because he doesn't know shit about taking care of himself, but this would keep her out of the brig, if some wise ass doctor in Command wanted to cause trouble." Glen raised his eyebrows daring his friend to challenge him on the issue. 

"Well in that case?" Ty shrugged, knowing full well that Jen didn't give a damn about chain of command. She'd boss an Admiral around if she thought it was in his best medical interest. "I guess you'll have to see if she's interested in the job." 

"I noticed she's been avoiding you," Ross raised his eyebrow. "What'd you do to piss her off?" 

"You so sure it was my fault?" McQueen asked with a half smile. 

"Yup," Ross laughed at his friend. 

"You're right," the other man sighed. 

"What happened? 

"She's being stubborn and I was my usual diplomatic self," McQueen didn't like how complicated his life had become all of the sudden.   
.................................. 

Half an hour later Ross walked into the Tun Tavern. The Juke Box was playing another of the snappy World War Two songs that had become so popular during this modern war with the Chigs. He could only catch a few of the words, something about 'not sitting under an apple tree with anyone else but me.' 

Things looked normal to the Commodore. The bar was about half full, and some of the younger Sailors and Marines were trying to Swing dance along with the old-fashioned music. The Wildcards were at their usual table playing poker. He wasn't sure how McQueen had pulled it off, but the Colonel had Jenny wedged between himself and Hawkes. The young Lieutenant was crowding the Doctor every chance he got, until she was brushing shoulders with the stern looking Colonel. A shot glass of scotch sat between the couple. 

Ross hadn't been in the room more than two minutes when he saw the Doctor reach for the scotch while examining her cards. The glass was half way to her nose when she stopped, turned toward an innocent looking McQueen and shoved his glass back toward him. 

Hawkes tried to raise the pot higher than table stakes. Mitch Connelly shook his head, "no, you can't do that. According to........" the young Lieutenant was cut off mid-sentence, as five voices groaned in unison. 

"........Hoyle!" The others finished his sentence for him. 

"Now you know where he got his call sign," Del Mar giggled as she explained to all present. 

"And here I thought it was a reference to my legal instincts. You know, always playing by the book?" Connelly laughed along with his friends. 

"Yeah right?" Damphousse rolled her eyes as she tossed in her cards. Deciding not to fight it out with Vansen. She was so happy to be out and about, her lack of a good poker hand didn't bother her in the least 

"Deal me out," McQueen slid his scotch in front of Jenny, then went to join Ross at the bar. 

"Will they throw me in the brig if I dump it on him?" Jen fumed as she pointed to the shot glass. "And you...move over," she gave Coop a shove. 

"Hey, I'm a big guy," Hawkes tried to look hurt as he moved slightly away from the angry doctor. 

"I'm out, too," she took her unfinished wine and moved to an empty table in the corner. Her shoulder still warm from where it had been plastered against Ty's. As she sat down, the thought that McQueen had put Hawkes up to his little pushing game ran through her mind, but she dismissed it as quickly as it surfaced. *"No,"* she thought. *"Ty, would never do that."* 

"We're on it," Shane nodded to 'Phousse and Maria, as she got up, indicating they should join Jenny. "She hasn't been herself since the night 'Phousse and I were lost." 

"Wait a sec, guys," Hawkes looked the lovely dark haired Captain in the eyes. "How do we know this isn't the real her?" 

"Are you saying we shouldn't check on her?" Vansen watched as the lone woman sent a big Marine on his way, rather than let him join her. 

"No," Hawkes shook his head. "That night of the explosion, everything changed for her. She may still be called Lady-Doc on the Saratoga, but on the inside she's Angel-Doc, again. That's got to mean something!" 

"You're right, Coop," Shane remembered Jenny telling her Angel-Doc had died the night the Angry Angels did. Wondering what caused the resurrection only made the younger woman worry more. "We can't leave her there alone. She's being hit on by every stray guy that comes along. We'll use a light touch, come on guys." 

Hawkes just smiled at Shane. From his seat, he could see Ross and McQueen at the bar. The Colonel wasn't taking his eyes off Jenny sitting in the corner. He watched the Colonel stiffen. Ice blue eyes making the older man's face fierce, as the Doctor sent another man on his way. *"I'd hate to see Jenny caught in a bar fight again,"* Coop thought. The Colonel had shown more restraint than he would have, had it been Shane sitting there alone. 

"I think you just pissed her off more," Ross commented to his friend as he watched Jenny alone at a table. 

"She'll get over it, I hope," McQueen smiled as he watched the women of the 58th go and join Jenny. 

Ross and McQueen stood in companionable silence as they watched people moving around the Tun. Hawkes, West, and Connelly had been joined by Chico Voss. The addition of the fourth, causing the card game to heat up again. 

Joan Brill, who had come in with Chico, pulled up a chair at the already crowded table with the woman. They all seemed to be talking at once, hands gesturing and patting one another on the shoulder, in the timeless way of women talking about things that really concern them. The conversations that men shrugged off as 'girl-talk', but never realized the support the women got from it or the impact it could have on the men's lives. 

"I'd like to be a fly on the wall and hear what they're saying," McQueen pointed toward Jen's table as another male Marine approached the woman, only to be turned away. 

"No you wouldn't, from the expression on the Doctor's face, they're tearing *someone* limb from limb." As another man walked up to Jenny and whispered in her ear, Ross could feel his friend stiffen. "You're not planning on hitting anybody tonight are you?" Ross looked at the table with the women, then at his friend. A fight was the last thing he wanted to get involved in tonight, but he would back McQueen just as the Colonel would back him in a similar situation. "That's the third guy whose asked her to dance since she left the other table." 

"Forth," Ty relaxed against the bar, as the Marine walked away. 

"What?" Ross wasn't sure what McQueen was talking about. 

"The forth guy, not the third," he straightened and glared as Jenny spoke quickly to Shane, causing the younger woman to laugh. "But you're right, something needs to be done." 

Ross watched, puzzled as McQueen walked over to the Juke Box and spent some time looking through the selections. When the Colonel returned, his friend looked at him with approval. 

"Battle tactics," McQueen smiled, putting aside the beer he had ordered when he joined Ross at the bar. Anything that happened tonight was going to happen with a clear head. "Wait and see." 

A few minutes later the sounds of a slow haunting melody from the 1940's, rang through the Tun. "I'm going in fangs out," McQueen gave Ross a nod. 

"And take no prisoners," Glen added giving him a thumbs up as the Colonel moved slowly and purposefully toward the table where Jenny had suddenly stopped talking. 

From the bar Ross could see Jen had turned to watch with wide eyes as McQueen homed in on her. "Well, take maybe one," he muttered under his breath and leaned back to enjoy the show. 

Jenny knew she had been saying something to her friends, but with the first notes of the old song, her mind went blank. "Harbor Lights," she whispered as she shook her head trying to get rid of the image of the day she and McQueen had found the old music box in an antique store in a small community in Southern California, known for it's abundance of antique shops. 

"Help me, Joan!" Jenny whispered, as she grasped blindly for the older woman's hand. Gray eyes stayed locked on clear blue ones as the man in a soft black shirt and pants came closer and closer. 

"Sorry honey," the older woman smiled, hoping McQueen knew he had her support. "This has been too long in coming. It's time you dealt with it." 

"Jenny?" 'Phousse looked at her worriedly, until she looked over her shoulder and saw who her friend was was staring at. "Oh!" 'Phousse grinned and poked Shane in the side, shaking her head as if to say 'I told you so.' 

"Dance with me, Jen?" The silver haired man whispered, holding out his hand to her. The other occupants of the small table seemed to hold their breath, until Jenny laid her hand in his and moved to the dance floor with him. Her mouth too dry to answer any other way. 

"Well I'll be damned, he did it!" Ross smiled as he raised his glass in a toast as the couple moved to the music. In all the years he had known McQueen he had never seen his friend dance. *"Extraordinary situations call for extraordinary measures,"* he thought. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the women move back to the table to join the rest of their squad. Deciding if McQueen was going to have time to mend his fences with Jenny, it was his job to keep the 58th occupied. 

"Ty, it wasn't me," Jenny looked into very blue eyes. "I wasn't the one who played that song." 

"I know," he smiled and pulled her closer. "I did." 

"Why are you doing this?" She looked up at him, every instinct telling her to bolt, while she still could. 

"Because I was wrong," he felt her muscles tighten and knew that if he didn't do something quickly, she would be gone. 

"Don't play games with me," to her frustration she could feel her eyes begin to tear. "You were right the other day, I am a coward." 

"No," he shook his head at her and held her closer. "You're one of the bravest people I've ever met. McKendrick was right." 

"You heard what he said this morning?" 

"I was standing in the hatch, remember," they danced slowly as other couples joined them on the dance floor. "I'll never hurt you again," he promised, adding silently, neither would anyone else. His eyes doing a quick check of the room, but no one except the Wildcards appeared to be paying any attention to them. 

"You wouldn't mean to, but...." Jen sniffed. "This can only end badly for me." 

"Never," he whispered. "I've always been proud to be with you. I haven't done a very good job of letting you know that. My fear for your safety has always gotten in the way. That's going to change, but more importantly, you need to know, you're not alone, anymore." 

"Ty?" She looked up, her eyes full of questions. "How did you know?" 

"Shhhhh, Jen." He leaned his cheek against her hair, enjoying holding her in public. "We'll dance, then we'll talk." 

She closed her eyes and rested her head on his shoulder. If she was asleep, she hoped she didn't wake up for a long time, but the song ended too soon. It was replaced by another of the wild swing tunes that everyone seemed to love to dance to. McQueen took Jen by the hand and led her out of the swinging doors of the Tun.   
................................ 

September 17 2064, 2210 hours 

As they left the noise and crowd behind, Jenny tried to pull her hand free, but he held on tightly. "Thanks for the dance, Ty," she pasted a smile on her face, needing to put some distance between them. "It's been a long time since I've danced. I need to be go......" 

"We need to talk," he looked a bit grim. "And we're almost there," he indicated the turn off to were they both had quarters. 

"I don't think this is a good idea," Jenny pulled back on his hand. He was too close to her, smelling too good. She didn't trust herself to be alone with him. 

"There's something you need to see," he tugged gently, pulling her along with him. "Then maybe you'll understand."   
................................. 

McQueen's Quarters: 

Jenny nibbled at her lower lip as she followed McQueen into his quarters. Part of her intrigued, part of her wanting to stomp her feet until she got her own way. 

"Trust me." His eyes serious as he walked over to his desk. "This is for you," he handed her the framed photo of his wedding. 

"What do you want ME to do with it?" She held up her hands as if to fend off the item he was holding, afraid she would throw it at his head if she touched it. 

"Open it up," he challenged. "Things aren't always what they seem." 

"Ty!" 

"Humor me, this once," he gave her a half smile when she finally took the cracked frame from him. 

"The catch is bent," Jen struggled with the damaged latch, until it gave way, spilling the contents of the frame onto the desk. "Ohhh," with shaking fingers, the Doctor picked up both pictures that had been in the frame. "When.....why....I don't understand?" She looked in confusion at the picture of her, leaning back against him, her hands covering his at the wheel of the Windswept. They had both been smiling at Patsy who had taken the picture. 

"I didn't understand myself for a long time," the Colonel reached one hand for the woman's cheek. "I put your picture there the night I showed you the alcove," he smiled as he remembered his confusion that night. "All I knew was that I had to have you close to me all the time, but was too afraid to look at the reason. So I hid it beneath this," he picked up the wedding picture and tossed it in the waste compartment. "It means nothing and has for a very long time." 

"What are you saying?" Jenny's voice cracked. 

McQueen took a deep breath, then took the plunge, "that I love you. I've never said that to anyone, not even Amy."   
  
"You didn't love her?" The doctor side of her personality had dealt with the after affects of McQueen's divorce, it was hard for her to believe what he was saying. 

"What I felt for Amy was a young man's affection mixed with a healthy dose of lust." The dream he had had about Amy helped him put that ghost to rest. He wondered how long he had known, but had keepen it hidden. "If we had taken it as the summer affair that it was, we would have walked away with happy memories and a better idea of what we did and didn't want out of life. Unfortunately, we took ourselves seriously, and got married." 

"All this time I thought......." 

"That I loved her.......even still?" McQueen shook his head as he put both arms around her. "No, life was less complicated when I left the illusion in place, but I haven't felt anything but relief, that it was over, for a long time. The divorce hurt, but I think it was more the fact I failed, than anything else. I locked the door on my feelings to keep myself from having to look too closely at that failure." 

"You're being too harsh on yourself," Jen defended him. "It takes two to make a divorce just like it takes two to make a......mar......relationship." 

"It does take two, doesn't it?" He rubbed his hands up and down her back, enjoying the freedom he was allowing himself, to touch her. "Now it's up to you, because I can't do this alone." 

"Why choose now to tell me this?" She could feel herself slipping under his spell. If she didn't fight back now, it would be too late. 

"I've known for a long time you were essential to me," he couldn't believe how hard he had fought against the inevitable. "It's been just recently that I've understood why. If it's any help, I've been just as terrified of loving you, as you have been of your feelings for me." 

"It helps," Jenny whispered as she closed her eyes and took a leap of faith. If he didn't catch her, as he promised, she knew she would crash and burn, "I do love you. I have for a long time." 

"Good, because, I'm never letting you go," he nibbled on her lips as he felt her melt against him. He had finally gotten the words right! 

Her hands moved over his neck, brushing his navel lightly as he held her close to him. McQueen shook and pulled his mouth from hers. "Jen," he growled. "You're playing with fire!" 

"So are you," she gasped as his hands moved beneath her sweater and over her skin. 

Deep in the heart of the Saratoga the great ship hummed with satisfaction, almost as if she could feel the joy that two of her crew were experiencing. This time, the night song she sent out through her deck plating was, 'the time is right, the time is right.'   
..................................... 

The Tun Tavern: 

The Wildcards watched with a smile on their faces as the music ended and their commanding office walked out of the Tun holding tightly to Jenny Kirkwood's hand. 

"Okay, when did all this happen?" Shane looked around the table at her friends. "'Phousse and I are gone for a few days and...and.." She couldn't finish her sentence. The feeling she got when she watched McQueen dancing with Jenny had been too much like watching parents at a time when she shouldn't have been. 

"I think it's been going on longer than the two of them realize," Ross smiled at Joan Brill for conformation. 

"He never left her side in Sickbay, the first night she was brought in," Joan remembered letting McQueen in after hours. "And when he got back from Kazbek in such bad shape, I had to order her to bed." 

"McQueen's the Major in her stories, isn't he?" West looked around the table. He had seen something in the Colonel's eyes the night Voss had been so insulting, but had never thought about it again. 

"It was in front of us all the time and we didn't catch on," Shane's jaw dropped as she remembered the picture of the Angry Angels on Jenny's desk. *"So that hadn't been just two people glass-eyed from booze,"* she smiled to herself. *"Way to go Jenny!"* 

"When I was in Sickbay, with my eyes bandaged," 'Phousse remembered a half heard conversation. "I heard them talking," she smiled at the memory. "She made him laugh and he talked to her in a tone I've never heard him use with anyone. I thought I was dreaming." 

"Mitch and I've heard about the stories that Jenny told on Kordis," Maria shrugged. "In those stories the Major was always dead. Why would she say he was dead, if he wasn't?" 

"Because she thought he died with the rest of the Angry Angels," 'Phousse remembered back to the ISSCV that had picked up the Kordis survivors. "I was taking care of the man in the bunk next to Jenny's. At the time I didn't think much of it, because she had been hit hard enough to knock her out. When she came too, she took one look at McQueen and insisted she was dead, because he was there." 

"I've known since the night they brought him in after the explosion," Voss whispered as he remembered the pain on Jenny's face. "She told me her medical expertise was all he ever wanted her for. She really believed it. After they hauled him out of there," he shook his head and looked at Joan Brill. "She was a mess and wouldn't let us help her." Then he smiled remembering a happier time, "But I think the Commodore is right about it going back further than that. He almost punched me out the first night she was aboard the Saratoga," he smiled and shrugged. "I said some really stupid things" 

"Chico, you couldn't help it. Even for a newbe, you weren't exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer," West grinned at the doctor who had become a good friend since then. 

"Coop, you're awfully quiet about all this," Shane looked at him and realized he knew more than he was letting on. 

"When Jenny first came aboard I used to wonder why she cared about me the way she did. At first, I thought it was because I was an in-vitro and she was so active in the Rights Movement. Then it hit me, she cared about all of us," he looked around the table at the Wildcards. "Somewhere alone the line I realized it was because McQueen cared about us so much that she did." 

"Coop, I think you're selling yourself and Jenny short," Shane reached across the table and patted his hand. 

"No, hear me out," he looked at Shane as if she were the only one in the room. "Now, she cares about us on her own, but in the beginning it was because of McQueen. She cared unconditionally. He loved us, so did she, for her it was that simple," he sighed trying to make a point. "She said as much on 2063Y. No matter what, we were coming back or she would die trying to get us back. Jenny Kirkwood is the first person to love me no matter what I did or who I am, and I know she always will." 

"It sounds as if you're describing a mother," Joan Brill smiled at the insightful young man. 

"A mother?" Coop grinned and shook his head. "I never thought I'd have one of those. All the more reason that anything else I know, isn't mine to talk about," he smiled at Shane and could tell by the look in her eyes she understood. Coop had gotten in the habit of protecting Jenny and now he knew why. "If they want us to know anything, they'll tell us. But, whatever happens, we'll need to watch their six." He sounded so much like McQueen that Shane did a double take. 

"Both points well taken, Lt. Hawkes," Ross stood and stretched. "Joan, I'll walk you back, if you're ready to leave."   
............................................... 

"I love wandering the corridors of the 'Toga at this time of night," Ross sighed as he caressed a bulkhead. The further he and Joan had gotten from the Tun, the quieter it had gotten. 

"Are you all right about what happened, Glen," Joan looked up at Ross. "I know you cared more about Jenny than you ever let on." 

"You read me too well," Ross sighed. "I hope McQueen didn't see what you've seen." 

"Jenny's had his emotions tied in so many knots the last year I doubt he's seen anything much," they reached Joan's door at the end of a quiet hall. 

"It's better this way Joan," Ross smiled, always being a practical man. "Ty loves her and she loves him, they'll work out their problems between them. Both of them have had pretty lonely lives, so they'll appreciate what they have all the more." 

"What about you?" 

"I'll be fine. I have the love of my life right here under my feet," Ross looked around at his ship. "If you listen carefully you can hear her night song. She sounds happy tonight. I cared about Jenny a lot, I still do, but she would have always been second to the Saratoga. I realized that months ago."   
........................... 

McQueen's Quarters: 

Clothes lay in pools around McQueen's usually neat cabin. His soft black shirt was missing some buttons and lay tangled with Jen's white lacy bra, with a torn strap. His black slacks hid the scrap of ripped silk that had been her panties. The surge of energy that had inflamed the cabin for the last hour was calmed, as two damp bodies lay together trying to catch their breath. 

"Are you all right?" McQueen drew the sheet over them as he pulled Jen closer on his left side. 

"I'll let you know, when my brain cells reconnect," Jen murmured as her lips found the ridges of a scar she knew was on his shoulder. 

"What are you doing," he gasp as he felt the small kisses she used to trace the damage from a previous war. 

"Fulfilling a fantasy," she grinned as she moved on top of him. Her lips tracing first one scar then another. 

"Fantasy?" he held her tightly as he turned them, placing her below him. "I never knew you had a kinky side to you, Doctor. This could get very interesting." 

"From my prospective it's already interesting." She kept on giving him nibbling kisses as she worked her way over the scars on his chest, "I've always wanted to do this." 

"I have scars other places, too," he offered as he returned the favor by kissing the bruises on her neck. 

"Yes," she murmured. "There's a map of all your scars in your medical record. I know where each and every one is." 

"Do you now?" McQueen whispered. His eyes danced blue fire, as he watched her flush. He wondered exactly which of his scars had made her blush and the fun they would have finding out. 

"Hhhhuummm," Jen gasp unable to take her eyes off Ty's as he leaned toward her, his mouth doing its own recon mission, starting with her throat and moving where he willed, until both people moved only on instinct. 

.......................................... 

"Love you," Jenny murmured. "Let me stay here tonight? I want to sleep beside you." 

"You just try and leave." He held her closer, "I've already told you once this evening that I didn't plan on letting you go." 

"You really meant it?" 

"Of course." Later when she wasn't so skeptical he would tell her all that he planned for them both. "Though, once it's safe for you on Earth, I'd much rather you were assigned there, than out here." 

"No, don't ask me to do that," Jenny felt her stomach clench at the thought of leaving. 

"I love you and would like to know you were safe," he kissed her, afraid for her if she stayed, afraid for himself if she left. 

"Answer me honestly," Jen supported herself on her elbow to look down at him. "If given the choice of a 'safe' assignment on Earth, would you leave me here on the Saratoga?" 

"Hell, no!" He ground out as he mirrored her position. "But that's different." 

"You're darn right it is!" Jenny's eyes were fierce as she poked him in the chest for emphasis. "I work in Sickbay, a place that is one of the safest areas on the ship. You're on the exposed bridge. Any Chig with a death wish could crash through there, taking it out and you along with it. I almost never leave the Saratoga. You'll be back to active combat status in a few months. So, McQueen, which one of us do you think is the safest out here?" 

"You've made your point," he could hardly argue with her. "But no more going searching for lost Marines, even if they are my Marines. And that trick you pulled in the Launch Bay?" He shivered thinking about it, "Jen, I had to order Trosper not to open those Bay doors. Please, don't ever put me in that position again!" 

"I'm sorry, I didn't know it would be so hard on you," she leaned toward him to kiss him gently. "We shouldn't waste time like this," Jenny shook her head at the futility of the argument. "Tomorrow either one of us, or both of us, could be transfer off the Saratoga." 

"Ross has an idea about that," McQueen whispered. "It seems Stan Turek felt that with my 'special needs.'" He hated the sound of that. "I should have consistent medical care. It was suggested that my duty sheet be stapled with a doctor's duty sheet. Voss brought this to the Commodore's attention and it seems Chico thinks you're the best qualified at 'keeping me in line in Sickbay.' I believe that was how it was stated. Ross thinks it's a good idea, but I wouldn't do it unless you were alright with it." 

"Oh Ty," Jenny giggled at the pained expression on his face. Then sobered as she thought further. "I gather my change of assignment will take me out of your chain of command?" She had wondered why McQueen had let things go so far between them when she was technically part of his squad. 

"We won't need the ruse of you being a Wildcard to keep you safe and on the Saratoga, is that alright with you?" 

"I'll miss the 58th," she shrugged. "But if you and I want to continue......" 

"We do!" He spoke emphatically. 

"A doctor shouldn't take care of someone she's emotionally involved with," Jenny whispered. 

"Can you tell me we weren't emotionally involved the night you saved my life after the explosion?" He watched the pain cross her face and got his answer before she spoke. 

"You know I can't." She kissed him deeply to try and take away the horror of that night. 

"Then I guess it's live or die together," McQueen whispered as he kissed her again. "You wanted that when I took the 'Cards to Kazbek. I didn't understand then, but I do now." 

"I'll do my best to be more careful," Jen murmured, realizing how important it was for him that she try. "Promise me one thing? If the Saratoga is hit badly, you won't stay behind with Ross. He may want to go down with his ship, but three's a crowd." 

"You know Glen pretty well," McQueen felt a moment of jealousy. 

"I can recognize when a person loves their ship," she caressed Ty's cheek. "So do we have deal? We're in this together, no matter what happens?" Holding out her hand she offered their old agreement, "pax?" 

"Pax," he took her hand but instead of just shaking it as usual, he locked their hands together with their fingers intertwined. "You know I love you very much?" 

"Yes," Jenny realized it was his way of telling her how difficult it would be for him if she were to die. "When the war is over, if you still want me, I'll go to what ever base you're assigned to. When you're on ship duty, I'll wait for you on Catalina. If I thought this charade of being your doctor would keep us together in peace time, I'd stay in the Navy." 

"You'd do that for me?" McQueen hadn't told her that he planned to leave the Corps when the war ended. He knew what she thought of the life she had just offered him: the long separations and worry; the stress of moving from base to base; the politics of life on base, made worse because they would be a mixed couple. He knew she wanted out of the Navy and medicine, but she would give all that up to be with him. It made his fears for her safety appear small and insignificant. 

"Of course, Ty, I love you." She smiled, knowing that even if the times together would be marked by lonely stretches while he was away, they would be worth having. 

"It's not anything you'll ever have to do," he watched as confusion filled her eyes. "I gave Ross my resignation the evening you brought back the 'Cards." 

"What?" Jenny grabbed onto him. "You didn't do this for me, did you?" The fear was clear in her voice, "I'd never ask you to change for me!" 

"Part of me wants to tell you that I'm giving you the gift of a normal life because I love you," he shook his head at his foolishness. "But I've learned my lesson. I have to be who I am, not someone elses idea of who I am. You fell in love with a Marine, will it make a difference that I'll be a civilian?" 

"I didn't fall in love with a Marine, I fell in love with a man," Jen reached up and kissed him. 

McQueen picked up his dog tags and removed her bracelet from them. "As much as I'd like to keep this, I want you to wear it." He put it back on her wrist, where she had always worn it. "This time, if anyone asks, tell them the truth. I gave it to you." 

"Are you sure about that?" Jenny knew he was still afraid for her, though he was hiding it well. 

"I deliberately burned my bridges this evening," he nodded. "As long as we're on the Saratoga, we need to be circumspect about our relationship. I don't want to do anything that would get Ross into trouble." 

"I can live with that," she smiled and moved the bracelet around her wrist. "I missed it, I've worn it for so long," Jen yawned. "But giving it to you was the only way I could be sure you'd come back." 

"Sleep now, you're not making any sense," McQueen pulled her closer. "I'd always come back for you. I always have. I didn't need a bracelet to remind me." 

"Love you," Jen whispered as she drifted off to sleep.   
.................................. 

September 18, 0500 hours McQueen's quarters- 

McQueen awoke to the unaccustomed sound of breathing next to his left ear. He hadn't slept for long, but the few hours of sleep he had gotten left him strangely refreshed and contented. He and Jen were tangled together on a bunk that was hardly wide enough for one. There was something about this that was significant and went far deeper than the physical implications. He closed his eyes and let the old memory surface: Amy, it had to do with Amy. She had always accused him of shutting her out. Saying, his inability to sleep unless she was as far away from him as their bed would allow, was a tangible sign of his need to keep her out emotionally. 

Ty was caught by surprise at how correct Amy had been. With her he had been careful to guard his personal space, even in his sleep. But with Jen it was different. There was no 'his space' or 'her space,' only their's. He chuckled softly as he realized that was defining moment number two, in less than twelve hours. Was the slight woman who was wrapped around him going to provide defining moments for as long as he lived, just to prove herself right? 

He pulled her closer, as he felt her begin to stretch against him. "Good morning," a very contented Lieutenant Colonel whispered to the woman who was trying not to wake up. 

"Hi there," Jenny snuggled back against the warm body that held her close. Raising up, she attempted to kiss the lips that were grinning at her inability to keep her eyes open. Over balancing she ended up planting a sleepy kiss on his chin instead. "Sorry about that," she giggled. "Lets try it again." This time her aim was more accurate. 

"That was much better," his eyes twinkled as she slid back down beside him. He had watched Jen wake up on a number of occasions. Having her wake up warm and soft in his arms was better than he could have imagined. Thinking of those other times, Ty had to be very sure. "Are you still okay with this?" He swept blond curls away from her eyes so he could see as well as hear her answer. 

"You thought I'd hate myself in the morning?" Jenny watched as he fought to keep his face unguarded. "I can't think of anywhere else I'd rather wake up, than beside you. Now your turn, McQueen." She offered, "did you change your mind?" 

"Never," he whispered. 

"Good, because this is the first time since Earth that I've awakened and haven't been cold," she teased, though they both knew there was a grain of truth in what she was saying. 

"Well, I'm glad I could be of help," he grunted. This was something else he had never experienced, this intimate 'playing' between a man and a woman. Always before it had been, sex, then nothing. 

As he ran his hand along her side and felt her curve against his touch, he wanting badly to roll her beneath him and spend the day as they had spent most of the night. But it was getting late, and soon it was back to their other lives. The ones where they were Colonel and Doctor. They'd practiced that game when they were with the Angry Angels, not realizing how important it would become to them later. 

Moving quickly while he still had a hold on priorities, McQueen slid out from under the blanket and sat on the side of the bunk, "I've got a breakfast meeting with Ross at 0600 or I'd....." He caught his breath as he felt her hand move along his lower back. 

"I missed one last night," Jen's fingers moved over an old scar on his back, just below the twelfth rib. "That looks like it went deep, you're lucky you didn't lose a kidney." 

"You missed a number of them last night," he turned and l put his arm around her as she curled against his back and side. His eyes had gone a clear dark blue and his voice husky. Last night her lips had moved over the scars on his chest with nibbling kisses, he could picture them moving where her fingers were touching now. "Jen....you know I'd rather stay here with you, but there's just so much Ross will over-look." 

"I..ah..." She pulled her hand away from him as if she had been burned. "I didn't mean to do that," she blinked in surprise. 

"It's okay, Jen," he smiled and brought her wandering hand to his mouth and kissed her palm. "As I was saying, before I was so nicely distracted, if I didn't have this meeting I'd invite you to shower with me." 

"Ha....Unless your bathroom is much larger than mine, it would be a very tight squeeze," she kidded, as she averted her eyes from his backside as he headed toward the shower. 

"We'd work it out," he grinned, looking back at her. The bathroom door covering all but his face. "I'll be out in a minute, wait for me?" 

"Sure," she whispered, still holding the sheet over her as she looked at the pile of clothes on the floor instead of where the voice was coming from. 

As he quickly showered and shaved, he couldn't get over the fact that Jen had been shy about seeing him naked. It didn't make sense. She was a doctor, had seen men like that before, hadn't she? She had taken care of him often enough to know what his body looked like. He smiled and almost cut himself shaving when he realized the difference. This morning she was looking at him as a woman looks at a man." 

Jenny heard the bathroom door open behind her. She was leaning over to make up the bunk. "Ty, you've really got to be easier on my clothes," Jen was dressed in the jeans and sweater she had worn the night before, but a scrap of torn lace and a damaged bra dangled over her shoulder. The breath caught in her throat as she turned and found him standing very near her. A damp towel slung low on his hips, water beads still glistening on his skin and silver hair. 

"You haven't had any other mornings after, have you?" His voice almost purred with satisfaction. 

"Ah...." her mind went blank. "Not exactly." 

"Why didn't you say something last night?" 

"It didn't seem like the time?" She tried to skirt around the question, but he only shook his head, seeing through her. "I didn't want to disappoint you," she whispered. 

"You couldn't." He had known for a long time that Jen wasn't much of a player. Last night for a split second, he'd realized the truth, but dismissed it. Sighing, he reached for the damaged silk hanging over her shoulder, "but I could have been more careful of you." 

"Then I'm glad I didn't say anything," her chin rose, in what McQueen had come to think of as her fighting stance. "I wouldn't change anything about last night." 

"Jen, what am I going to do with you?" He shook his head as he pulled her close against him. 

Reaching for his cleanly shaven cheek, she gave him a wicked grin. "If last night is anything to go by, you've already figured it out." 

"I think you may be right," he agreed in mock seriousness, "but until we can explore that theory in more detail, there is something I want you to have." He reached for a piece of paper in the top drawer of his desk, "it's my door code." 

"I can't take that," Jenny gasped. McQueen was an intensely private person. Most in-vitros that she had met were. It came from spending too many years in communal living. 

"Jen, you're welcome here anytime," he curled her fingers around the paper. "There will be times when we have to work late. I want to know that if one of us comes in at two in the morning the other will be sleeping in that bunk." He could see in her eyes she understood that he wasn't only talking about now, and strategy meetings with Ross or late nights in surgery. He was asking her to be here months down the road, when he would be coming in battle weary and covered with dirt from some far away planet or moon. 

"Okay," her mouth was so dry she didn't think he heard her. "But you have to take mine as well," she wrote the numbers on the bottom half of the paper and tore it in half.   
.............................. 

September 18, 2064 Mess Hall, 0630 hours: 

"Queen Of Diamonds to Angel-Doc, come in Jenny." Shane stood beside the table where the older woman was seated, staring into her coffee. The noise of the mess hall flowed around them. 

"Shane? Sorry, I didn't see you," she smiled as she indicated for her friend to sit and eat with her. 

"You wouldn't have seen a planet the size of Jupiter," Vansen giggled. "I've got to warn you, the rest of the 58th is only a few minutes behind me." 

"I always enjoy eating with you guys," Jenny decided to brazen it out. She wasn't fool enough to think that any of the 'Cards had missed what went on last night. If they didn't approve of it, she had better find out now. 

"It's okay," Vansen patted the older woman's hand, "there's nothing to worry about." 

"Thank you," Jenny reached for her coffee. "You'll give them my thanks?" 

Shane nodded as she worked up the courage to ask the question that had been burning in her mind since she saw Jen dancing with McQueen. "When we talked in March," she licked her lips. "It was him, wasn't it?" 

"Yes," the Doctor whispered. "I couldn't say anything. I couldn't tell anybody." 

"You don't have to explain," Shane smiled. "Having seen and heard you that night, then seen you and the Colonel last night, I know for sure that John wasn't the right man." Shane's grin of relief making it clear that she was over Oakes for good. "I hope I find someone who loves me, as much as you love him." 

"I don't think that's something you're going to need to worry about," Jen patted her friend's arm, as she saw the big in-vitro Marine leading the 58th over to join them. 

Jenny had expected to receive some good natured ribbing, but with the exception of Shane's private question, nothing was said that indicated that anything out of the ordinary had happened. She hoped Joan Brill could contain herself until they were some place more private than Sickbay. There was no doubt in the Doctor's mind that she was in for a grilling by the older nurse.   
.................................   
  
September 21, Ross's Office, 1430 hours: 

"Come," the Commodore called out at the knock on his hatch. 

"You wanted to see me, Sir," McQueen took a seat across from his friend. 

"I received a packet from Savage," Ross indicated the communications chip that was on his desk. "A lot has happened since we've been out of contact with the war." 

"Is there more trouble?" McQueen watched Ross carefully, something was bothering the older man. 

"Yes and no," Ross fidgeted a moment before looking at his friend. "On the positive side, there has been very little action in the last two weeks. Each side has pulled back. In the past, that sort of thing has been followed by a huge blood letting. From what Savage says, there is a different feel to the situation than usual, so he's hopeful that it'll be different this time." 

"Sir, that's not what you called me here to discuss, " McQueen had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

"You're right," the Commodore sighed. "Ty, Carleton Stryker was arrested three nights ago. He and some friends attacked an In-Vitro Rights worker at a rally in Boston." 

"Go on," McQueen felt every nerve in his body tighten. 

"Jack Longley and his team had just broken the story to the press about Aerotech's involvement in creating drug controlled in-vitros. There was a public backlash in support of in-vitros. Almost every major city in the world, had demonstration, against Aerotech," the Commodore took a deep breath and plunged on. "From what Frank tells me, the Rally in Boston had been planned months ago. Four men, one of them Stryker, grabbed a female Rights Worker off the streets. They burned the back of her neck with a cigar but were caught, when her gag came loose, while trying to rape her. 

"Son of a bitch!" McQueen wanted nothing more than to get his hands on Stryker. 

"Ty, calm down!" Ross ordered. "In the past two years there have been 10 other muggings like this one. They used DNA testing to place Stryker at the scene each time. Savage sent me a list of the other victims, Jenny's name wasn't on it." 

"It wouldn't be, she wasn't raped," he whispered as he fought for control. When he looked up at Ross again, his eyes glinted ice. "But it was Stryker. The nurse I talked to that night said Jen was lucky. It looked like the men started tearing at her clothes, then changed their minds and marked her first." 

"Jesus, Ty," Ross gasped. "No wonder you've been so protective of her." 

"Some protector I am?" He laughed bitterly. "I've just turned her into the In-Vitro Colonel's woman!" 

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," Ross ground out. "Don't you ever demean what the two of you have like that again. You're happy for the first time in your life, that's got to be worth something. I've only known Jenny a year, but I've never seen her happier," the Commodore turned and paced not sure how much he should say. "McQueen, you think you're the only person on this vessel who is involved with someone? Well you're not! I've turned my back on a lot of things that at other times I would have tossed people in the brig for. But this damn war is taking lives so fast, I can't see denying people happiness if they happen to find it in the middle of all this hell. My only rule is they don't rub my face in it, so get the hell out of my face!" 

"Understood, Sir." 

"Now back to business," Ross' voice was gruff. "If we want to see that man convicted as the slimy criminal he is, we have to keep our personal feelings out of it. The information McKendrick has is too vital to be jeopardized by anything. As far as we're concerned, Carleton Stryker had noting to do with Jenny Kirkwood. There are too many connections here and I don't want some smart-ass attorney to find a loop hole for that traitor to crawl out of. Do I make myself clear?" 

"Yes, Sir," the grim smile that crossed the Colonel's lips made Ross shudder. "But if he does slip through anything, it won't be for long." 

"McQueen do I have to lock you up until you calm down?" The Commodore would do just that if he had to. "Hayden has been able to keep a lid on the story. She's been trying to distance herself from Stryker and Aerotech, but it won't last for long. When that story hits, Jenny's going to need you close by, not sitting in the brig." 

"Do they have anything on Stryker besides the.......muggings," he choked over the word. 

"He had two in-vitros on his staff that couldn't pass a routine physical." Ross looked slyly at McQueen, "it seems that both of them had been programed with deep violent post-hypnotic suggestions. During the deprogramming process, both men spoke of a third member to their group. A friend, who was killed by a mob after assassinating Spencer Chartwell." 

"What? Chartwell's murder?" The Colonel turned from his place at the port hole in surprise. 

"Frank says that's being whispered about," Ross smiled for the first time since McQueen entered his office. "And two of his bodyguards have a very sketchy criminal history. Both of them have been on the run since Longley's story hit. Savage has men out looking for them, he believes they were involved in the killings of older in-vitros." 

"Glen," McQueen's voice cracked, "I always swore I'd kill the men who hurt her, when I found out who they were." 

"If we're careful, and do this right, we will." A look of grim satisfaction crossed the Commodore's face. "Treason is the only capital offense left on the books." 

"How much longer do you think Hayden will be able to keep this quiet?" 

"She's running out of time. Her credibility has been badly damaged," Ross' smile was evil. "I'd say by tomorrow The Armed Forces Network will be carrying bits and pieces of the story. Jenny needs to be warned, do you want me to talk to her?"   
  
"No, she should hear it from me," he looked at his watch and decided he had just enough time to punch his anger away in the gym.   
........................... 

September 21, 2064 McQueen's Quarters 2345: 

She had thought he was asleep when she had slipped out of bed, but he wasn't. If he had been, her leaving his side would have awakened him. She was standing at his port hole a few feet away. McQueen couldn't help smiling, she had grabbed his t-shirt from the back of the chair as she passed by. What was this strange thing she had for wearing his clothes? He didn't care, when he picked up something she had been wearing he could smell her scent and it made him whole. 

"Jen," McQueen whispered as he came up behind her. His arms pulled her back against him as he buried his face in her hair. "Are you all right?" 

"Sure I am. What are you doing still awake?" She was afraid she knew, but wanted to hear it from him. "You should be exhausted. I hear you spent a few hours with a large punching bag this afternoon." 

"The Doctor has spies does she?" He teased, then turned serious. "If you're so 'all right' how come you're not sleeping?" McQueen was sure Jen's spy wore a Wildcards insignia on his or her flightsuit and made a mental note to keep his eyes open for them in the future. 

"Couldn't sleep," she tried to pass it off as simple insomnia. 

"Jen, look at me." He turned her around gently and cupped her face with his hands. "You don't need to be afraid. Stryker or his kind will never hurt you again, I promise." 

"You think that's why I can't sleep?" She was tired and exasperated. Hearing about Stryker had taken more of a toll on her than she liked to admit. 

"I can't think of any other reason." 

"I've been waiting all evening for you to pull away because of this," she chewed on her lower lip in worry. "I know you said you wouldn't, but I saw how hard it was on you. Why else would you have needed two hours with a punching bag before you could tell me?" 

"For such a smart woman, you come to some silly conclusions," he pulled her close. "I must have killed Stryker a dozen times while hitting that bag," he smiled at the memory. "But I learned something too. When I walked out on you in Houston, Stryker scored another victory. All the times I've held back out of fear for you, we've been the losers. Jen, I don't like to lose!" 

"Neither do I," she ran her hands up and down his sides, enjoying the feel of his warm skin under her touch. 

"You won't. Now come back to bed, you're freezing," he could feel her shiver as he helped her back into the bunk. "But I can warm you up better with out this," he grinned in the dark as he pulled the shirt she was wearing over her head and sent it flying. 

"They say the best way to share body heat is skin to skin," Jen giggled as they matched each other touch for touch.   
......................... 

Lieutenant Colonel Tyrus Cassius McQueen looked at the sleeping woman in his arms and wondered why it had taken him so long to realize that she had been right. There was no one single defining moment. Life was a series of them. How one dealt with those moments was what really defined a person, not the moment its self. 

The fleeting memories he had of her in detox; all the time they spent on the Windswept; the disaster in a hospital in Houston; finding her crumpled on the ground on Kordis; and all the times on the Saratoga. There had been no short cuts for them, no easy way. They had learned and changed together, but all the time it had taken, had been worth the wait. Everything that had come before, had been leading to this cabin, to that moment in time when he had finally been able to say the words that let someone into his life forever.   
  
  
  
  


  



	7. Ch: 7 Forever

ch7tx.html I think the poem that is at the end of this chapter was written by my Grandmother. I found it in her handwriting on the inner cover of her favorite book of poems, shortly after my Grandfather's death. If someone else wrote it, thank you for letting my Grandmother and me borrow it. It says what she felt and what Jenny felt, too.   
  
*Shin-Ken is the Japanese word for 'real sword.' To do something with a real sword means to do it with utmost earnestness. To have an attitude proper to a real sword means to be deadly serious.* Taken from The Book Of Five Rings by Miyamoto Musashi, translation by Thomas Cleary.   
  


THE MOVING FINGER WRITES   
Ch: 7 Forever 

It took time for the information brought back by the Saratoga to be sifted through and verified. With Major McKendrick's influence the process moved more quickly than it would have, but for many it wasn't quick enough. The World Senate that had been wasting countless hours arguing The Big Bang Theory versus, Chig ancestry on Earth, now had something real to talk about. 

The documents proved that Diane Hayden, Carleton Stryker and Aerotech had been collaborating with the enemy. They were never able to prove who had taken the lead, Stryker, Hayden or Aerotech, but the damage was done. 

Howard Sewell's widow brought forth information that her husband had hidden away over the years. His secret collection of rumor and innuendo, that he had chased down until he had a strikingly clear picture of the real workings of The Company. It was the final nail in Aerotech's coffin. The mega corporation was taken over by the United States government to be dismantled and broken up into many smaller private entities. 

Sewell's documents had detailed lists of elements found on both Tellus and Vesta. It was theorized that the colonies were an attempt by Aerotech to plant an Earth presents on those worlds as a prelude to a declaration of ownership. This was supported by the find of a deposit of Sewell Fuel in a vault in The Space Labs division of the underground compound that was part of the huge Company. 

Carleton Stryker and Diane Hayden were convicted of treason and sentenced to death by lethal injection. Stryker was found beaten to death in the prison laundry, bound and gagged, with a cigar burn on the back of his neck, two days after sentencing. They were never able to find out who killed the condemned man. There were a number of in-vitro inmates in the prison, but after questioning them all, nothing was gained. Carleton Stryker became another prison mystery. 

When news of Stryker's death reached the Saratoga Jenny Kirkwood breathed a sigh of relief. 

"Jen?" McQueen motioned her out of the rec room where they had just heard the new. "It wasn't me. As much as I would have liked it to be, it wasn't." 

"I know what he did has been eating at you," she smiled at him. "But I'm so glad it wasn't you." 

"The first few days after I heard I was angry enough for it to have been," he hated that the dark side of him was still so close to the surface. "Ross was smart. He kept me busy and had all the out-goings monitored closely under the guise of 'protecting McKendrick's information'. There was no way for me to get in touch with my contacts on Earth." 

A month later Diane Hayden went to her death insisting that she had been manipulated by Stryker and was innocent of anything except loving the wrong man, despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary. 

The war continued after the deaths of Hayden and Stryker. The Chigs fighting with all they had to protect their sacred moon. The place where life begins for them and where they go for renewal, never dying, always being reborn. 

The United Nations, now led by Secretary General Chaput, and his pro-war activists pushed harder than ever to exploit the first chink found in the enemy's armor. Within months, the war took on a life of its own. It became death for death's sake. The few that whispered about genocide did so with fear, realizing that it could end that way for either races. 

The New Secretary General couldn't fight the in-vitro issue any longer. It had became politically correct, almost trendy to be an in-vitro. Areas that had been closed to that section of society suddenly welcomed them with open arms. It was a confusing time that created distrust from the group of people who could have most benefited from it. Civil Rights workers took full advantage of the sudden shift in thinking and did all they could to get protective laws passed. 

Dr. Roger Abaan lived long enough to see his dream become a reality. The United Nations outlawed the IVA. The use of artificial gestation was strictly sanctioned and could only be used in conjunction with assisted conception, in certified fertility clinics. 

McQueen's body responded to the stem cell therapy better than anyone could have hoped for. He was recertified for full combat duty just before Christmas 2064. Two days later he flew his last mission with the Wildcards.   
........................................ 

Saratoga, December 20, 2064 -0200 hours 

Thirty-six hours after the 58th had left, Jenny wandered into Sickbay, a cup of coffee in her hand. She had tried sleeping in the quarters she shared with McQueen, but had only tossed and turned. She had gone back to her own quarters, closed her eyes and tried to pretend that he was just down the hall sleeping. It hadn't worked.   
........................... 

She kept remembering dinner with Glen Ross that evening. Jenny had been sitting in the Mess Hall, contemplating the food on her plate when the Commodore joined her. 

"You really should eat," Ross pointed at her plate. "Starving yourself, won't bring him back any faster." 

"Glen, I don't need taking care of," she raised her left eyebrow and gave him a pointed stare. 

"I know that," he smiled. "And so do you, but I promised McQueen. And before you lose your temper, cut the man some slack. He's new at this caring business. It makes him feel vulnerable and I'll lay odds he hasn't felt that way in about 18 years." 

"I'm sorry, I can't help being a bit surly." Working hard to keep her mask in place, she reached for her bracelet, then bit her lip in frustration when she remembered that it was hanging with a pair of dogtags somewhere far away. 

"Jenny, it's okay," Ross reached gently for her left wrist, knowing what she had been looking for and why it was missing. "You're allowed to worry." 

"Please, don't tell him," her voice broke as she stopped trying to hide anything. 

"He already knows. That's one of the reasons I know he'll be back." 

"He must hate it!" Jen sighed. "I tried so hard to hide it from him the morning he left." 

"Hate it, no, but he does worry about you. As long as this war lasts, McQueen is a Marine first, but did you ever stop to wonder, what it must be like for a man like him, to have what he has with you? He's never had that before, Jenny. It means a lot to him. You mean a lot to him," the Commodore leaned back in his chair and took a sip of coffee. 

"Thank you, Glen," Jen smiled. "Thanks, for taking care of me."   
................................... 

Sickbay 0230 hours 

It was very late and she had expected to find Sickbay deserted. Instead she found Chico Voss playing solitaire, "Chico, are you all right?" Voss usually didn't spend after hours time in Sickbay unless there was work to do. 

"I'm doing about the same as you are," he grunted as he looked at his watch. 

"Oh...Oh?" Jen had seen the other doctor with Maria Del Mar a few times, but hadn't thought anything of it. How could she have missed it? She smiled as a simple answer came to mind: Ty. "Are you waiting for Maria?" 

"Yes," he shook his head. "Now I know why you spend so much time down here. They notify us first, if....when they get back." 

"Do you want me to leave you alone?" Jen began to back out of the office they shared. 

"No please, stay, it really helps to have someone who understands." 

Two hours later the Marine squadron returned, dirty, tired, and victorious. Both doctors went their separate ways, each trying to look as if they didn't have a worry in the world and for a moment they didn't.   
..........................   
  
By the New Year, the Wildcards' squadron was expanded to become a Marine Flight Wing, with a permanent assignment on the Saratoga. McQueen was promoted to full Colonel, his job become the Bridge Tactical Officer and head of the newly formed group. To his disgust, and Jenny's relief, he never flew a mission again. 

Vansen received a field promotion of Major, becoming Flight Officer for the 58th Wing . The other members of the Wildcards were promoted to Captain. West, Hawkes, Del Mar and Connelly each had a squad of highly trained and experienced pilots. Damphousse acted as Wing Exec and became Vansen's wingman. The Wildcards grew into one of the most deadly and sought after groups in the 5th Marines. 

Lt. Com. Jennifer Kirkwood was promoted to full Commander and became the Chief Medical Officer of the Saratoga. This kept her busier than ever, with the added responsibility of running Sickbay, added to her load of patient care. 

With the advent of Jenny into his life, McQueen appeared to change for a while. He became more open, more easily approachable. His promotion brought an end to that. Where before he had to sweat it out when six Hammerheads were on missions, now he was counting in 32 very special ones and countless numbers of others. He became the Iceman again, except in the presence of the original Wildcards. Even with them, he fought to keep his guard up where he could. It was only behind the locked door of his quarters, with Jen, that he let himself go. 

They were there for each other the night that Vanessa Damphousse's Hammerhead came in riddled with bullet holes. The young pilot covered in blood, alive, though she had lost the sight in her left eye. Her optic nerve, to that side, destroyed. Captain Damphousse was sent home on the next hospital shuttle, with a medical discharge from the Marine Corps. 

When Vanessa left Bethesda Navel Hospital, she took the first shuttle to California to meet Patsy the woman she had heard so much about. Knowing there she would find a connection to the group she felt lost from. Catalina had the added benefit of Frank Savage's proximity and his knowledge of what was going on in the war. The young ex-Marine was surprised to find she wasn't the only person to be thinking along those lines. Kylen Celina had been living with Patsy since her release from the extensive debriefing sessions for POWs. Savage was gone most of the time, often to places not even Patsy knew about. She was glad for the company of the two young woman who shared the same ties she did. 

The three woman spent the duration of the war living in the house on Catalina. Kylen and Vanessa found bits and pieces of themselves that had been lost in the last year. They listened to the ocean and walked the beaches and trails of the Island, and felt themselves begin to heal. When mail arrived or news of the war came on TV, other tasks were forgotten. All three of them knew that a chunk of their hearts lived on a space carrier far away. 

With the loss of Damphousse, Jenny Kirkwood pulled away from all but the core group of friends she had established. It seemed easier not to care about people, than to lose them to death or damage that couldn't be repaired. It was only with Ty that she felt really free to be herself. 

That winter the last big offensive of the war was fought. Allied forces were making an all out push for the Chig moon. It was a bloody fight, that the Chigs were determined not to lose. In their last ditch efforts to save their race, they began flying death missions into the the bridges of Earth Force ships. One such mission was flown against the Saratoga.   
............................... 

Jenny was in Sickbay when the wounded from the Bridge began coming in. Her heart stopped when she recognized the blood covered body of Pete Chang, followed by an injured Commodore Ross.   
  
The only thing that had saved Ross' life was the door to his ready room, that he had just closed behind him, as he went to his office to get some work done. He was unconscious, with his right arm broken and body covered in metal splinters from the door that had saved his life. 

The Medical Corps struggled for hours trying to save the lives of men and women who Jen knew usually worked along side of McQueen. She didn't know which was harder, the idea of seeing him on a stretcher or wondering where he was. 

"Jenny," Joan Brill stuck her head in the door of the operating room, where the Doctor was doing an Open Reduction and Internal Fixation of the fracture to Ross' arm. The nurse pointed to the window behind the anesthesia machine. 

The fear on Jen's face was replaced by relief when she saw a grim and dirt covered Col. McQueen staring back at her from the sub-sterile next door. He nodded his head at Jen, then went back to work in the Command and Control, after whispering something in Brill's ear. 

That night McQueen and Jenny held on to each other tightly. The Colonel had been briefing a group of Hammerhead pilots or he would have been on the bridge. It had saved his life. For the first time he had looked into the face of his own mortality and recognized it for what it was. He didn't like what he saw looking back at him. 

"Jen, do you love me, really love me?" He asked with so much desperation it took the woman in his arms by surprise. 

"Of course I do!" She was afraid she knew what was coming next, he was going to try and make her leave the Saratoga. 

"Then marry me, now, tonight if possible," McQueen had heard rumors that the Chaplain was preforming marriage ceremonies on the sly. When he had gone to sickbay to assure Jen he was all right, he had found the older man comforting some of the wounded and had had a long talk with him. 

"Ty, if we go to Ross, he'll have to send one of us off the Saratoga, I won't do that." Jenny had stood as witness for Maria Del Mar and Chico Voss, when the Chaplain had married them in a very private ceremony, less then a month ago. She had never told the Colonel about it, because she didn't want him to be in a position where he had to choose between the rules of the Corps and caring about his friends. 

"There's a way around that, and knowing you like I do, I would bet you know it too," the slight flush that spread across her cheeks confirmed his belief. 

"Jen, I could have been killed today. Ten minutes either way and I would have been standing behind Pete Chang," he whispered as he remembered seeing the mangled body of the man he had worked along side of for over a year. "If something were to happen to me I want you to have the privileges and protection of being my wife."   
  
"Don't say that, please," she held onto him tighter then ever. Jenny could here the words he wasn't saying. As his lover she would be just another woman who had slept with an in-vitro. As the widow of a much decorated Marine Colonel, she would have the benefits of his rank and name to protect her from racial slurs. It didn't matter to her, but she knew it did to him. "Nothing is going to happen to either of us." 

"You're not answering my question," he looked at her carefully needing to know how she really felt. 

"I'll only marry you if it's something that you would want even if there was no war going on around us now." 

That night they were married in the privacy of Joan Brill's quarters. The nurse acted as witness as the Chaplain preformed the ceremony. Everyone understood that it was to be kept a secret. Only the old minister knew how many of those marriages he preformed. The computer would send copies of the marriage certificates to Earth when the war was over. 

Chaplain Baeslack had thought long and hard on his decision to go against the regulations of the Navy. In the end the Chaplain decided his first duty was to God, and secondly to the men and women on the Saratoga. The Navy came in a distant third. 

On August 12, 2065 a war weary group of peace negotiators met. The delegation from Earth was lead by Cyril McKendrick. The Chigs were lead by a small unassuming member of their race. The only one of them to have had contact with Humans, in a non-combat situation. The Wildcards would have recognized him as Pastie, the caretaker of the nursery on the Chig moon. To his race he was known as The One Who Protects The All. A man of great power and leadership.   
  
Jenny and McQueen were home by December 15, 2065. They had planned to leave immediately for an extended trip on the Windswept, but put it off when Cooper Hawkes asked Shane Vansen to marry him. The couple had been closer than any one realized in the last months of the war. Shane and Coop had spent a lot of time with Maria and Chico, acting as cover for the them. 

On December 20, 2065 they were married in front of the fireplace in Jenny's living room. All the original Wildcards were there. Maria and Vanessa were bridesmaids and Nathan best man. Jen and Ty acted as parents to both the bride and groom. Shane was given away by her sisters. They said their vows to the sound of a roaring fire in the fireplace and the rain pounding on the roof. 

"That was a lovely wedding," Jenny cuddled close to Ty. 

"It took me by surprise," he kissed her head as he pulled her close to his side in the bed Jenny had slept in all her life. "You knew didn't you?" 

"I've known how Coop felt for a long time, I just didn't know the feeling was returned." 

"I hope they're going to be all right," McQueen sighed at the suddenness of it all. 

"They will be, they had the best teachers in the Universe: Nathan and Kylen." 

"Yeah, you're right," he smiled remembering the photo tag that was so much a part of the Wildcards they could have worn it as a patch. Nathan had given it back to him the day the Saratoga picked the 58th up from 2063Y. 

They stayed on Catalina until the day after Christmas, then boarded the Windswept and weren't seen again by anyone until June 2066. No one had to ask why they went, one look into there eyes had told it all: too much death; too much pain; and too much suffering. They cut their trip shorter than they would have because Jenny had contracted a strange flu, that made her unusually susceptible to sea sickness. 

Her 'flu' was born on January 20, 2067. She was named Patricia Cassidy McQueen. The child that neither parent had ever expected to have was the final step in the healing that had started at Shane and Coop's wedding. It seemed the doctors had been wrong. It wasn't that Tyrus McQueen couldn't have children, but given the damage inflicted to him by AIs, the odds were about a million to one. 

Ty and Lars began in earnest to make their dream of building racing boats come true. It had caught the men by surprise when they discovered Jenny had the business instincts of a shark. Patsy could have told them, but no one bothered to ask her. It was Jen who had played the stock market ever since her father died and turned the small inheritance she had split with Patsy into substantial portfolios for both of them. She could read a balance sheet and make sense out of tax laws with out batting an eye. The men gave up with out a fight. They would build the boats, Jen could run the business side. 

Cooper Hawkes joined McQueen and Lars in their company, Shin-Ken Boats. He discovered the joy of creating with his hands and found an inner peace he never thought to obtain. As the three men built the designs that McQueen and Lars drafted, they grew close. Jenny taught Coop to sail and often it was McQueen and Hawkes who raced the Black Gull, spreading the reputation of the company with each race they won. The midnight hull became as much a signature of a Shin-Ken Boat as the small sword on the bow under its name.   
  
Nathan and Kylen were married on July 7, 2066. They had waited until Jenny and Ty were back from their trip. The Wests settled in Ann Arbor, Michigan where Nathan used the G.I. Bill to go to law school. He and Mitch had planned for a long time to go into practice together. 

That same fall Vanessa Damphousse joined Nathan at The University Of Michigan to get her Doctorate in engineering. Vanessa and Kylen had become close friends during the time they had spent on Catalina and remained so all their lives. A year later Mitch Connelly asked Vanessa to marry him. They were married in small ceremony in upstate New York. 

Maria and Chico Voss settled in Boston where he was on the staff of Mass General Hospital. Maria loved the New England atmosphere that was so different from the Texas ranch where she grew up. Her love for the past and tradition was in it's glory in one of the oldest cities of the United States. She worked in an antique shop for a year then opened her own shop, giving her better hours and the freedom to come and go as she pleased. 

Shane Vansen became a civilian flight instructor at the newly opened El Toro Marine Air base. The Corps had retained the name of the base that had closed in the 1990's, but moved it to a deserted corner of Camp Pendelton. She commuted from Catalina where she and Coop lived. Shane knew she would probably never be able to give up flying all together. She had sailed as a child, but it couldn't replace flying.   
  
On March 15, 2070 in Auckland, the American Sword's night black hull edged out Team New Zealand by two boat lengths in the last round of the America's Cup, to bring the Cup home for the first time since the war. The Shin-Ken built boat was captained by Stan Turek and Cooper Hawkes was a member of the crew. 

Jenny McQueen stood watching her husband as his eyes were trained on the race and the boat he had designed and help to build. For a moment she was taken back in time. McQueen had the same stance he had when he had watched Hammers coming back to the Saratoga. A fighting look on his face. Jen smiled to herself, loving the Warrior that was so much a part of him. Instead of fighting with guns and Hammerheads, his weapons had become sheets of canvas, wood and fiberglass. Now days he pitted his knowledge of the sea, the wind, and the tides, against other men's, in the the boats he sailed and those he created and built for others to sail. 

The people who had forged a life long friendship on the Saratoga met once a year in the spring on Catalina. The group grew into a second generation of Wildcards. Their parents insisting that they were the Wildest Cards of all. Commodore Ross would join them if he was in Space Port. The Saratoga had survived the War and he was on permanent assignment along the DMZ that marked the buffer between Chigs and Humans. 

On June 15, 2092 on a beautiful sunny day, Patricia Cassidy McQueen married Paul Vansen Hawkes in Patsy's rose garden on Catalina. Cassie and Paul had grown up in each other's back pocket, they were best friends or worst enemies, depending on when in the last 25 years it was. In the end the friendship won out. As Admiral Ross was fond of telling Cassie, just as he had told her father, 'love is friendship set on fire.' 

As McQueen walked his daughter down the path between the rose bushes, he was amazed that the tiny baby that he had held in his arms such a short time ago had turned into a lovely young woman. She was Jen with his blue eyes. It would catch him by surprise when certain expressions crossed her face or gestures that she used were so much her mother. 

Where had the time gone? How could she have gone from a little girl who had trouble walking without holding on to their hands to this lovely young woman who was walking into a man's arms. Flip-flops and scuffed sneakers had given way to sleek sandals and stylish high heels. She had grown up, but no matter the changes, Catalina, sailing and her parents had remained a constant. 

After handing Cassie over to Paul, he took a seat in the front row beside Jen. How had he gotten so lucky? The answer was sitting beside him. He smiled at his wife as he handed her his handkerchief and put his arm around her. For Ty, it all began to change when Jen came along. 

"It's all right, Ty, they really love each other, you know," she whispered to him, her gray eyes swimming with tears. "But I'm going to miss her terribly." 

"I know," he smiled into her face as he wiped away the tears. "If they're half as happy as we've been, they'll be just fine."   
................................. 

June 28, 2108 Catalina Island 2250 hours: 

Jenny was tired and her back hurt. She turned off her computer and pulled out the information crystal. She had been writing almost constantly for the last nine months. With a sigh she knew it was complete. 

"You started this, Ty, but I've finally finished it," Jen whispered to the picture that was sitting beside her computer. "It's all here for Cassie to read. I can't help wondering what you'd think. I know you thought you were writing a war story when you started this, but even what you'd written was so much more than that. I've turned my Warrior into a romantic hero. Would you hate that, or did you realize that there was so much more to you, even back then? Glen always used to say War was the greatest romance of all because it brought out the best and worst of mankind. It made people go to extraordinary length and do unimaginable deeds. It did that for us. You in particular." 

The old woman climbed into the bed she had shared with her husband for forty years, up until the day of his death the previous November. Jen reached into her nightstand and pulled out the little book containing the poem Sea Fever. It was the same book she had given Ty that first Christmas they had spent together, when they were both with the Angry Angels. She read the words she had written on the inside cover, the night he died, November 22, 2107. The ink was smudged from the tears she had cried as she had tried to figure out how she was going to go on without her Warrior by her side: 

The things you loved I have not laid away,   
To molder in the darkness day after day.   
They are all about me, intimate and dear. 

I do not keep your chair a thing apart,   
Lonely and empty, desolate to view.   
But if one comes weary sick at heart   
I sit him or her there and comfort him for you. 

Perchance so much that now seems incomplete   
Was left for me in my poor way to do.   
And I shall love to tell you when we meet,   
That I have done your errands, dear for you. 

"I don't think I'll have much more time to wait?" She whispered as she felt the odd beating in her chest, that was becoming more and more painful in the last month. 

"No, not much longer, Love," a deep familiar voice answered in her head. 

"Good," she smiled as she closed her eyes, and caught the scent of Hammerhead fuel and sandalwood aftershave. The book slipped from her hand and the light beside her bed glinted off her bracelet one last time. 

When she looked around again, Ty was standing beside her, young and strong as he had been on the day they were married in Joan Brill's cabin on the Saratoga. "Take my hand, Jen." 

"I've missed you, Love," as she gripped his hand she felt young again. 

"I've been right here with you all the time," he smiled as they walked away from the body of the old woman in the bed. "Remember not even death can defeat an Angry Angel." 

"I know, but it's been hard. I've been like a bird with only one wing since you've been gone." 

"It's been the same for me, Love, but now we can soar again, together," Tyrus McQueen held tightly to her hand and they walked out the door into a world filled with stars that seemed to go on Forever, because it did. 

***************** 

In my romantic indecision there is a second ending to this story. Both ending are the same until you get to the last few paragraphs.   
****************** 

SECOND ENDING: 

June 30, 2108 Catalina Island 

A somber group had gathered at the house on Catalina. It was the same group that had come there at least once a year for the last forty years. Every June the McQueen's would have a reunion. As children were born, the group grew, until the original Wildcards were out numbered by what they called the Wildest Cards of them all, the next generation. 

Today they came to pay a final tribute to the memory of Col. Tyrus Cassius McQueen, USMC Retired. The original Wildcards and their husbands and wives gathered in the study where Jenny and Ty had spent so much time. Jen managing the business side of Shin-Ken Boats and McQueen the creative. 

"I want to thank you all for coming," Cassie McQueen Hawkes' fingers shook a bit as she held a large envelope. "Daddy left this for all of us," she fought tears as she opened the package and pulled out a letter that she read for the first time.   


My Dearest Cassie, 

I know at times you grew up feeling as if you had a house full of much older brothers and sisters, but I see the way you still look at your husband and I know that it was a household full of love. If Coop, Vanessa, Shane, Nathan, Maria, and Mitch were my first children, you are the child of my heart.   
You are so like your mother. Over the years it has amazed me to see Jen looking back at me, except with my blue eyes. In the nine months since her death, I'd watch an expression come across your face or the way your body would move and it would be Jen. Seeing so much of her in you broke my heart and saved my sanity at the same time. She lived on in you, therefore I could live too.   
The data crystal that's with this letter is the story of that Great War and all that lead up to it, for your mother and me. When I first began writing it, I was sure I was writing a war story, but it turned out to be a romance.   
Back in '70 when Stan Turek sailed the first of my Shin-Ken boats to victory in an Amarica's Cup, Jen told me that though I had given up guns and Hammerheads, I had became a warrior of the sea. The tides, winds and currents were my war. My weapons were my knowledge, sheets of canvas, wood and fiberglass. I wonder what she'd say if she knew her warrior had written a romance?   
Glen Ross used to say that War was the greatest romance of all because it brought out the best and worst of mankind. It made us go to extraordinary lengths and do unimaginable deeds. I don't know about that, but it forged together the hearts and souls of the people who meant the most to me.   
In the lessons of caring we had some good teachers. It is no surprise to me that each of us who learned about love on the Saratoga are still together after all these years. Maria and Chico, Shane and Coop, Mitch and Vanessa, your mom and me, we had the best teachers in the universe: Nathan and Kylen.   
The photo tag that is at the bottom of this envelope was carried by either Nathan or myself all during that long war. It became as much a part of the Wildcards as our Flushed Out Cards patch. It bound our hearts together and reminded us we were human in an inhuman war. Even after Kylen was rescued, it was a symbol of what we were all fighting for.   
It's taken me almost a year to write the story that I'm giving to you. I'm tired and I think my waiting may be over soon. The last few nights I've dreamt of Jen. Each night the dreams become more intense. Last night I could could even smell the rose fragrance she always wore.   
We will love you always and watch over you.   
Love, Daddy   


"The latter is dated June 28th, the night that he died," Cassie handed the old photo tag to Nathan and Kylen. Nathan pushed the voice activation on the tag and into the hushed room could be heard Kylen's clear young voice, "I believe in all of you." 

THE END   



End file.
